


Heart Fractals

by End_My_Misery



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Be gentle, Drama, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heartbreak, Humor, Life is unfair, Multi, Original Character(s), POV Sans, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Drama, Romantic Tragedy, Sans Has Issues, Sans is Sassy and Sarcastic, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Angst, Teen Anxiety, Teen Romance, This Story Will Pull Your Heart Strings, Triggers, Undertale Spoilers, cute relationships, ecto-flesh, if you catch my drift, just fluff, mature - Freeform, this is my first fanfic ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 64,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_My_Misery/pseuds/End_My_Misery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After giving his virginity away to a man who doesn’t even love him for himself, Sans loses all hope in believing that he will find a happy ending for himself and a meaningful relationship, while only believing the fact that society has lost all morality and based their thoughts and relations off of baser, carnal, and sexual instincts. All the while being thrown into a new world of love, confusion, lust, and drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heartbreak One: Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Fanfic, I'm nervous. Um, I hope you like it, constructive criticism is wanted, just don't me mean to me (lol). Or you can be mean, I have no control over you. Also, as a warning, This story has themes of self-harm, domestic abuse, and suicidal thoughts and tendencies. If any of those things make you, the reader, uncomfortable, or have any triggers, do not read this fanfic. Enjoy :)

_heart_ : the center of the total personality, especially with reference to intuition, feeling, and emotion.

 _fractal_ : a geometrical or physical structure having an irregular fragmented shape at all scales of measurement between a greatest and smallest scale such that certain mathematical or physical properties of the structure, as a perimeter of a curve or the flow rate in a porous medium, behaves as if the dimensions of the structure are greater than the spacious dimensions.

 

Heart-Break One: Blind Date

 

I tap my skeletal fingertips on the plastic table top, not very inclined to eat like the rest of my friends. I didn’t get to take my anxiety and depression medication, and I am resenting staying up late playing my P.C. games and ending up oversleeping this morning. Three times I could feel my soul tightening in my chest, the universe imploding on itself, bullets of sweat dripping down my cranium… I also feel like trash. I begin to zone out, ignoring the banter at my lunch table, thinking about my life and where I am now. It has been three years since Frisk has disappeared from the world; from my world. The gender fluid human told me how they would return, but so far, they never did. And I don’t know if they ever will. I miss them deeply, as they became one of my best friends after the battle with Asreil.

I sigh, closing my eyes, letting my mind drift back in time even further, back to when me and my little brother Papyrus lived with our father. It was a sickening and sweet time, my little brother always a happy energetic skeleton, unlike myself. Dad was pretty nice too, when he wouldn’t beat me half to death when I didn’t do something right…I distinctly remember what he would do, when I failed to use my magic correctly or answered a trigonometry or calculus problem wrong, or when he would think about mom. He would also commit terrible abuse when he got drunk too…

“Sans, are you okay?” A tender, nervous voice that belongs to Alphys snaps me out of my thoughts, which I’m quite thankful for. Those thoughts should be left in the past, where they belong.

I look up, but not before noticing Undyne- her girlfriend- placing a turquoise blue hand over Alphys', gently squeezing and forcing me to advert my eyes immediately. Curse them and their adorably nauseating lesbian relationship! How dare they be so cute?

“Yeah, fine,” I grinned, pulling up my sleeves to cover my hands; a stupid nervous habit. I could feel the smile plastered on my face wavering with the anxiety in my soul.

“Of course you’re not, Sans. I know a person feeling like garbage when I see one.”

I turn my head, my smile becoming even less convincing. Napstablook; my only friend who's as emo as I am. Oh, how I would kill for this school day to be over already so we can just lay on his floor, listen to death metal, and simply zone out, staring at the blank ceiling with equally blank looks on our faces for hours on end.

“You’re not cracking as many jokes as usual either.”

I shake my head, milking out my giddy facade for as long as possible.

“I could ask you the very same question. You look like you’ve just seen...a _ghost_!”

Everyone cringes but I could see the faint smiles and hear the hidden laughter; it was priceless every time.

“That pun was forced,” Blooky observes, “And the only one all day.”

I smirk. “Well, I guess you can see right through me. Like how I can _see right through you_.”

“Sans,” Undyne grimaces, “Don’t try to play it off, skele-shit. You really do seem worked up about somethi-” “-You just need more _sex_ in your life, darling~”

Mettaton- the student-council-robot-president- sits down at our table, cutting off Undyne and earning a sharp glare from her.

I blush a deep blue and turned away, embarrassed. I pulled the hood of my blue jacket over my head, hiding behind the soft fabric. “Mettaton just,” I pause, anxiety making  
another build, “no it’s not that. I didn’t take my pills this morning, that’s all.”

“Oh, darling that’s precisely not the case,” the president responds, a little too casually for the subject, “You’re just frustrated and need a good fu-”

“Mettaton, just, no,” I grimace, the cyan staining my cheeks now in full swing. “Sex is not what I need right now; thank you very much.”

“Sans, don't be a hard-ass,” Undyne retorts, bunching up a fist, “For once in his life, Mettaton’s right. A good amount of sex in a relationship can be healthy! Right, Alph?”

In quick response, Alphys blushes about as harshly as me and begins frantically cleaning her foggy spectacles, trying her best to ignore her girlfriend’s questionable innuendo.

“Um guys?” Blooky butts in shakily, stirring up even more conversation at the table, “I don’t think we should push people into sex and stuff. They should do what they wan-”

“Nonsense, Blooky!” Mettaton beams, wrapping an arm around the anxious ghost. “Sans is obviously constantly horny; he’s a teenager after all. Don't you want him to be happy, Blooky?”

He turns to him, the devious smirk on his face , right Blooks?”

In return, the blue ghost slouches, shrugging translucent shoulders in defeat.

Mettaton then focuses his attentive eyes back to me and my brow furrows,“Sans, honey, Undyne is right! You’d be much happier with a sexual relationship! Tell me, are you with anyone?”

My burning luminescent color became so heavy, my face started to literally glow behind my jacket; I’m already sixteen years old and in my junior year of high school and I’m a total virgin! I’ve never dated, had sex, kissed, or even held hands with someone (well, besides Papyrus but that’s only because he liked to run off on his own when he was young) hell! I never even had the time for self-pleasure from juggling work, school, and quality time with my little brother and friends. Besides, I’ve never felt that way about anyone before so I’ve never felt the need to take time out of my life to go and date.

“No,” I say, a bit solemnly.

“Well you do have experience right?” Blooky pries, “Why not just ask someone out to try it, you know?”

I wheeze. How embarrassing; admitting that I’m a squeaky clean virgin that might as well be Catholic. It’s not that I can’t admit my innocence, it’s just that I don’t want to. Just because someone is your friend, doesn’t mean they won’t sometimes dismiss your different ethics or morals without trying to reinforce their own. I’m not trying to cause any disputes right now; I am too tired for that today.

“Heh,” I chuckle sarcastically, not wanting to address any attention to that question.

Bad move. Everyone immediately leans into me, eyes wide, jaws agape and catching on quickly.

“Don’t tell me…,” Undyne grins manically, wide and fraudulent, “You’ve never dated. That you’ve never held hands or kissed or had sex!”

I furrow my brow at the warrior, retaliating by saying, “Whatever! I’m too busy for that type of thing anyway!”

Undyne flips her fiery red locks in satisfaction, “Hah!”

“Oh my god, darling,” Mettaton sighs, shaking his head miserably, although I got the feeling that it was more than fifty percent spurious.

I turn my growing scrutiny to the mecha entertainer and shrugged rather aggressively. “S-so what? I don’t date, does it really matter?”

“I-I’m sorry Sans, but I agree,” Blooky mummers, tears shimmering at the corners of his eyes, “I think a relationship will be just the thing for you. To make you happy y’know? I just know how hard things have been for you lately, and maybe you need someone to show you that kind of attention.”

I relax a little at that, but it still doesn’t make me change my mind. “I’m busy enough, I don’t need a relationship to maintain on top of all my work,” I argue, “But thanks for thinking about me.”

Can we stop talking about this already?

“Oh no, it’s worse than I thought…,” Mettaton gasps, dramatically and theatrically tossing the back of his hand to his forehead, “I’ve never seen a worse case of ‘need-to-get-laid’ in my life! Tell me sweetheart,” he grabs my face with both hands, something that I greatly do not appreciate, “What is your sexuality?”

I pull away, literally and figuratively, avoiding his line of sight.

“Like I’m going to tell you, _pervert_ ,” I reciprocate, “It’s not any of your business anyway.”

“I-I’m actually kind of c-curious,” Alphys speaks softly, “A-are you maybe pan?”

“Yes Alphys,” I simper, about to crack a joke. “Of course I’m sexually attracted to cookware.”

“Sans, this is serious, skele-shit” Undyne growls, peeved. “Don’t be messing around with this type of thing.”

My grin begins stretching even wider. “Isn’t that the reason for sexuality? For _messin’ around?”_

The warrior girl smacked her face and groaned at the pun.

“Besides, I don’t feel attracted to people,” I say bluntly, “I think I asexual.”

“B-but Sans,” Alphys says, “You’ve never been with anyone. I’m not trying to tell you how to feel about people but… shouldn’t you give it a chance before you um… uh, jump to conclusions about yourself? I’m trying to say that, uh, you’re young and you should t-try to give love a chance you know?”

I calm a little at the yellow lizard’s comment. “I guess you’ve got a point Alp, but I honestly don’t know,” I shrug, “I’ve never really taken the time out of my life to explore it. Besides, who'd want to date a skeleton?”

The table went silent and awkward. That’s to be expected. Without my comic relief and all the low brow sex jokes, this table is actually quite depressing. I’m glad that they didn’t press forward; I’m already uncomfortable and there wasn’t much else left to say-

“Oh, Sans darling! I have an idea!” Mettaton exclaims.

-maybe not.

“I’m having a party at my place tonight and since it’s Friday, it’s going to be a pretty big one. I got this special friend that I think would be just what you’re looking for. You should come and meet him-”

“Nope.” I quickly cut him off before he can get another word out, “Can’t. I have to take care of Pap and work at Grillby’s.”

“Come on Hun, don’t be a downer,” the council president persuaded me, “this is the perfect opportunity for you to live a little, and have some fun Sans, darling. You know, go crazy, drink some beer, meet new people, perhaps… get some.”

My cheeks light up again and I shrug, smiling a bit. “I…” I trail off, sighing, “I don’t know.”

“Come on man! We’re all going!” Undyne elbows me in the arm in her tough yet loving way, making me wince.

“W-well I erm…” everyone stares at me in heavy anticipation, awaiting my answer like how a pack of wolves would await their prey. Gulping, I gave into the peer pressure. “Al-alright, I’ll go! But just for a few hours. I’ll tell Grillby that I’m taking a day off.”

Everyone cheered as Mettaton hands out invitation slips that were like rather sleek and fancy business cards.

“I can’t wait to see everyone there!” the robot pipes, “Oh and Sans darling,” he whispers in my ear socket, leaning in close and draping one of his long arms over my shoulders, “I’ll call up my buddy to come meet you, I’m sure you’ll just adore him~”

My face glows even brighter this time as he smiles before getting up and walking away with the other upperclassmen that consisted of jocks and preps. I don’t even know how we get along. I also don’t like the way he had put so much emphasis on the word friend and buddy. So basically, he… he had just put me on a blind date, huh? Heh. _Crazy bastard_. I rested my chin on my hands, letting my mind wander and drift. So what was this person like? Hopefully, they aren’t anything like Mettaton, or else they might just drive me up the walls. Wait… him? I nearly choke in astonishment. A guy! Mettaton had just set me up with a dude, a male! I don’t even know if I like men… or women for that matter. But is this guy a human or a monster like me? How am I even going to talk to him, I can barely even socialize with the people at my table, let alone convince someone to go out with me!

Letting all of this sink in, I begin to have another anxiety attack. I’ve never even been to a party! Oh, why me-

“Um, Sans?”

“Huh? Wha-what?”

Blooky is staring at me, a confused look on his ghostly face. “Lunch is over. Everyone left.”

I look around me and sure enough, the cafeteria was deserted except for a few custodians mopping up spills.

Typical.

  
***

  
Blooky and I start walking down the hallway towards our next class, trying our best to blend into the crowd. Ever since monsters had broken through the barrier and declared peace with the humans on the Surface, things had been rather hard. Even though they at least tolerate us being here, it still doesn’t mean they like us. Many monsters have been targeted lately with abuse, hate crimes, police brutality, or just downright prejudice. So many times I had to come to the defenses of my friends to stop other humans our age from humiliating us, or calling us freaks. But the worse part of it all, hands down is how they would stare, and point, and whisper about us. I can hear them, just quiet enough for them to think that I couldn’t, but in fact it’s like a blaring foghorn. “Oh my god, is that a _skeleton_?” “How does _it live_?” “Does it eat and breathe like us?” “It’s so _weird looking_ , god!” “How does that thing talk?” “It’s kind of _creepy_ looking, like a Halloween decoration that moves.” So embarrassing… I may be a monster but I have feelings, dammit! I'm not an _'it',_ I'm a person, a  _he_! Sometimes I just want to use my magic to disintegrate them, but I know I’d be giving monsters and even worse name than they already had up here.

“Hey, Sans,” Muffet, the spider-girl waves to me from her locker, getting a Trigonometry book from the shelf, “Let’s walk to class together.”

I smile lightly, “Sure, come on.”

Muffet is a very nice girl who runs the Spider Bakery with her family that’s down the street and to the right of my house. I’ve always been good friends with the goth but I know she has a crush on me- Mettaton had spread the gossip to me months back- and I’m sad that I couldn’t return the favor to her. But even before that bizarre encounter with the entertainer, I kind of had an inkling that she did. She would always- and still does- go out of her way to do little kind things for me; hold open doors, offer to walk me to class, give me free spider doughnuts and spider cider when she sneaks it out of her restaurant, things like that. Except the thing is, I don’t know if I could bring myself to break her sweet, adorable, little spider-infested heart. *Sniff*

We were in a group of three now, making our way to Trig class, Blooky a nervous wreck, Muffet already a giggling, gothy mess, and myself, with a wicked, sly smirk on my face.  
We all know what was going to go down; after all: this is Trigonometry class! The class that harbors my arch-nemesis: Mr. Albert Graves.

I step confidently through the door frame, and took my assigned seat next to Muffet, crossing my legs and setting my notebook on the table top. The rest of the students come filling in and taking their respective chairs, already looking bored out of their mind, and class hasn’t even started yet.

The quiet hum of muttering teenagers fills the air, cellphones vibrating every couple of seconds. Mr. Graves looked his stark, pale blue eyes upon the crowd in antipathy and nauseated distaste. His eyes lingered on me for a bit longer than everyone else, accentuating the wretched emotion to me even more. I wink rather seductively at the geyser, snapping my fingers and pointing at him, making Muffet giggle hard. He grimaces, before finishing shuffling his papers and standing up, making it look like a struggle with his huge weight. He doesn’t want to be here, poor fellow, but hey; I don’t want to either, so _suck it up_.

“Settle down class,” he wheezes, already exhausted on the effort of standing, poor fellow.

No one listens and his double chin quivers in indignant offense. Here it comes.

_“I SAID SETTLE DOWN!”_

_*Silence*_

Sweat pours down his spotty, viscous face, as he turns towards the board, getting out a black expo marker, and writing a couple of equations on the board that looked oddly familiar.

“We are going to be discovering, Dimension Swap Theory, a couple of me and my colleagues, have been studying about and creating equations for.”

He wrote a few more symbols on the whiteboard and I jolt out of my seat, raising my hand.

“Hey, um, Mr. Graves, I have something I’d like to point out!”

He pretends not to hear my outburst and the sounds of Muffet snickering, so I walk up to the front of the room with a fast stride and everyone’s questioning, judging eyes on me as I snatch the marker from his grubby, thick fingers. “Yoink!”

Sorry, but I’m going to have to stop you right there, pal.

He gasps, his face turning red in a mix of horror, shock, enragement, and resentment.

“Comic Sans Calibri!” He bellows my full, formal name and I stifle a laugh; who does he think he is, _my mom_?

“I would just like to point out a small error,” I state, nudging him in the fat folds with my elbow, “Something that I found quite odd, in your theory.”

I start scribbling on the board, wiping off his original equations and adding to them at the same time while preaching my concepts with confidence and dignity.

“So class,” I say, turning as a finish writing the first three equations on the board that were rather quite lengthy, “Do you know what any of this is, or means. Don’t raise your hand when I’m teaching, you can just say it!”

No one spoke and I sigh, “They’re Wind Dings. This equation of the Dimension Swap Theory represents the rate of which particles and mass are transferred through the core portal in the inner dimensions of space and time. Something you never need to know or something you are never going to use, and I don’t even know why or who decided to include this in the curriculum. Not even most scientist can comprehend this phenomenon, let alone, a teacher at some public high school.”

I turn to Mr. Graves, who looks so pissed and beet red, that I thought he was going to _explode_ from fury.

“Tell me teach,” I grin at him cheekily, “Tell me how you and your wondrous colleagues could… comprehend this scientific and mathematical theory, let alone, create equations.

“I-I uh, we spent absolute years on these equations!” He stammers, “How dare you take me for a fraud you-”

I quickly cut him off, hushing him with a wave of a hand, before shoving it back into my pocket, “Does anyone know who might have actually created this hypothesis?”

This time, Muffet raises her hand and says bubbly, “Doctor W. D. Gaster, the ex-Royal Scientist of the Underground.”

I beam at the fact that she actually tried, and and answered correctly on such a boring topic (well fascinating for me, boring for everyone else).

“That’s correct,” I say, turning back to Mr.Graves, “So what do you have to say for yourself, Sir? Claiming W. D. Gaster’s analysis and notes on the theory of particle transfer through space and time as your own in front of your whole class? Blatant plagiarism, _*tsk* *tsk*_ , Albert… don’t you know any better? And to think if I wasn’t here, you could get away with it because no one in the class knows, or cares about my father’s theories. Who are you trying to impress here? For shame.”  
I hold up the marker in front of his face just as the bell rings, and drop it, as if it were a mic and I had just won an epic rap battle… with a sixty-one-year-old, three hundred pound public school math teacher. I’d be so popular~ (I’m being sarcastic).

Before he could hop on my case with assigning detention, I scoop up my notebook and darted out the door along with the rest of the students.

I laugh quietly to myself, thinking, ‘if only I had taken a picture of his face!’

“Sans!” I turn around to see both Muffet and Blooky trying to catch up to me, breathing hard.

“That was _so_ cool!” The spider girl gasps, delighted, “I can’t believe you got away with that, again!”

“Sans, that’s the _teacher_! Don’t do that anymore please!” The phantom wheezes, on the verge of bawling his eyes out.

“It’s fine, Blooks, wouldn’t be the first time it happened right? Besides…” I trail off, my tone turning dark, my eyes glowering. “I won’t stand for someone treating my father like a piece of shit.”

  
***

  
Soon, we are outside, after our last class, hanging out with Undyne and Alphys, sitting on the benches. I was sitting on the tabletop, my hood up to block out the strong winds, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I then take out my invitation to Mettaton’s party from my pocket, turning it over and over in my hand, the sleek black-and-silver shimmering in the summer sun. I’m still uncertain about going; I’m so nervous! After all, I’m totally inexperienced with social events with others and I’m still in that angst, awkward phase in my life; I’m not even sure if Grillby will let me skip a shift, but I guess it’s worth a try.

“Are you going to the party, Sans?” Muffet asks, sitting next to me, swinging a leg over the other before resting a hand on her black-and-purple stockings. She smiled the sweetest of smiles, a faint blush settling on her cheeks. My metaphorical heart sinks, knowing that she’s probably hoping to ‘get’ with me at the party. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I grin and wink at her, crooning, “Only if you are.”

She looked me in the eyes, biting her bottom lip with a fang. If I was attracted to people, I might have called it sexy, but alas, it doesn’t do a thing for me.  
“Sans,” Napstablook calls to me, “You ready to go?”

“I’ll be over in a second!” I call back before turning to Muffet and stroking her bare shoulder, “Gotta go. I need to let Grillbs know that I’m not gonna be in tonight.”

She nods before we both get up and part our separate ways, waving to each other.

“So the first stop is Grillby’s, right?” Blooky asks to refresh himself.

“Yeah,” I answer, returning to turning Mettaton’s card back over in my skeletal hand. I begin to have second thoughts all over again.

Blooks must have notice because he turned to face me, smiling and says, “Don’t worry Sans. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

I shrug, shoving my hands back into my pockets, “I don’t know. I mean…”

“No, I get it. It’s your first time. But just be yourself y’know?”

“I guess,” I smile meekly, still anxious.

“Besides, Muffet is gonna be there; don’t you want to be with her?”

I flinch a little at that, realizing one day I’m going to have to break her heart. Sometime, she’ll ask me out, and I’ll have to say “no”. Who knows what would happen from there?

“Blooky, don’t tell her that I told you this, or anyone for that matter; just keep this as a secret, okay? Between you and me?”

“Alright, Sans.”

I take a deep breath, relaxing a little bit, knowing I can trust the ghost with even my life. “I don’t actually feel anything for Muffet. I mean, yeah, she’s nice and cute, and fun to be around, but I just kind of want to be only friends with her. I’m being nice to her so I don’t have to break her heart.”

A moment of silence drifts between us before the phantom speaks. “You’re going to have to tell her one of these days. Or she'll find out herself.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

We walk in complete silence the rest of the way to Grillby’s diner before I turn around and tell Napstablook he could wait outside if he wants to. He shakes his head and follows me closely inside and I almost curse out loud. Quit a shift just so I can party like a stupid delinquent? Grillby may be lenient but I’m sure he’ll never let me off the hook for something that trivial.

“Sans, you okay?” Blooky asks me cautiously.

“Yeah, why?” I turn to him, perplexed.

“You gotta learn how to stop spacing out like that.”

I freeze in place, noticing that I stopped half way through the door, still holding it open like a complete idiot, but I sure am glad that Undyne isn’t here to embarrass me anymore than I already am.

“I’m just of tired is all!” I stammer hurriedly, slipping quickly through the doorway to the diner and take an awkward look around.

Surprisingly, the restaurant is almost empty, save for a few customers here and there along with Grillby and his daughter, Kendall who seemed to be peeved for some reason. I walk over to the pyro duo and prop myself up on a bar stool next to the green flame-girl while swiping Grillby’s ketchup bottle and a straw before he can say likewise or snap at me.

“Hey, Grillbs,” I convey over the flow of the condiment into my mouth, “How’s it goin’?”

“Business is slow,” the bartender answers with a quiet sigh, “And on top of that, daughter won’t stop moaning and complaining to me, about this stupid party.”

“Dad, I’m not complaining!” Kendall replies, exasperated, her flames reaching new heights, making my bones overheated, “I’m asking kindly to go to the party! I even said please! And don’t embarrass me in front of your customers and employees. And parties aren’t stupid.”

“What’s wrong Kendall?” I quip, intrigued, “Your dad mufflin' your match again?”

“Oh Sans, it’s awful,” the green pyromancer whines in her high-pitched girly voice, “I can’t go to Mettaton’s party just because I got a ‘D plus’ in algebra two!”

“Quit complaining, Ken,” Grillby softly scolds, picking up a beer glass and shining it with a towel, “You were the one who decided to go on your phone instead of studying for your test. Besides, I don’t need your precious little mind being tainted by all those, crazy college students, drinking, and smoking weed, and having unprotected sex. The last thing I need is for you to end up pregnant by some stupid twenty-year-old who’s jobless, and lounges around getting drunk and high all day in his unwashed clothing. If I told you once, I told you a million times; I’m not raising any more babies.”

I nearly burst out laughing; I always love these two, they’re just too adorable.

“Dad, I’m not going to have sex, okay?” Kendall rubs her temples, annoyed, “You don’t have to worry so much! I’m just going to go there with a couple of friends for a few hours, and have fun, okay?”

Grillby gives his daughter a questionable glance over his spectacles, still swiping at the glass. “I don’t know.”

I slurp on my ketchup bottle, quite entertained when Napstablook came up behind me, whispering, “Come on, ask him.”

Anxiety rose in my throat, blocking the condiment on the way down as I propose my question to the bartender. Was he always this tall… and menacing? I'm just hoping that he won't look at me sideways for this!

“Hey Grillby?” I start, my mouth quivering a little bit, “Can I… take tonight off and… go?”

Please say yes.

The orange flame sighs, and shrugs, “Well, business is slow so, yes Sans. Yes you can. As long as you’re responsible, and look after yourself.”

 _“What?_ ” Kendall cries, astonished, “Sans can go but _I can’t? But daddy!”_

“Hush, now Kenny,” her father warns, tousling her lush green locks, “Sans is a little older than you, and more independent, and I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

The green pyro slams her elbows down on the bar top, stuffing her face into her hands and complaining, “This is so unfair, dad.”

“I know sweetheart. I know.”

Then he whips around and flares up at me, “Now get out, I bet you’re a bad influence on my daughter, probably going to sneak her out” He teases, “And that ketchup is going on your tab.”

I grin and dart out the diner with Blooky, calling back a thank you, and also hearing a deep chuckle of the pyromancer.

 

***

  
“You’re getting even more nervous than me, and that's impossible,” Blooky observes. “Just calm down, it’s only a party, albeit a large one.”

I simply ignore him; right now I caught a case of the jitters, butterflies, the shivers- everything! I can feel my soul darting around feverishly in my rib cage with anxious excitement as I try to steady it.

“Blooky, I’m nervous about the guy Mettaton set me up with,” I turn to him, sweating and shoving my hands back into my pockets, “I have no idea what to do.”

“I don’t even think Mettaton should have set you up with someone in the first place, Sans. You should be able to make your own choices and take things at your own pace. But, just be yourself actually. I know that’s what everyone says, but it’s the best piece of advice you can have. It’s hard pretending to be someone you’re not, so just be your laid back self.”

I ponder on this for a moment. Sure, I can just be me but, will he even like that? Some weird, walking Halloween decoration with social anxiety? Oh, god; from the sounds of that, not even I would date me!

“You know you don’t have to go either, just because my… control freak boyfriend wants to get you hooked up.”

“Would it be worth it you think, Blooks?”

“There’s only one way to find out, right?” The ghost gives me a small grin.

He stops levitating forward, and proceeds to float in place under the shade of a tree. Without turning around to face me, he barely whispers, “And don’t let them tell you who to love. Find your own path, okay Sans?”

I stare at him; I know that he probably feels bad about what happened at lunch today, but it wasn’t his fault, even if he just sat by and watched. I know it’s just adding to my oppression that he won’t jump in and help, but that’s just who he is.

We walk(and float) in silence for the rest of the way to my shabby house nestled between some trees across the street. The magnificent fortress looms absolutely majestically against the wondrous backdrop of full, lush, and vibrant evergreen trees!

I’m being sarcastic.

Sure, I could have picked a nicer house than this, but it was small(which meant less cleaning!), cute, and charming, reminding me of my old place in the Underground. It brought back rich, happy memories of staying in with my little brother from the frigid air of Snowdin, roasting ‘dogs and marshmallows by a hotly lit fireplace and telling fairy tales to each other. The good ol’ times. Times when things were simple, calming, and free-swinging.

“I can come back and pick you up at nine?” Blooky offers with his tiny anxious smile.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I say, getting out my house key and unlocking the door, “I’ll see you soon.”

I pretend to act all calm and cool until I close the door and automatically go into a panic frenzy. “Shit! I should have asked what I should've worn! Shit! Is it fancy or casual? Shit! Do I look like crap? Shit! I didn’t ask for enough dating advice! Shit! I’m clueless! Shit! Shit! Shi-”

 _“SANS!”_ My brother came thundering into the room, probably at the sounds of my cussing, “Watch your filthy mouth!”

“Ah, sorry Paps,” I say, rubbing the back of my skull with a nervous laugh as he put his fists on his hips.

I look up at him, and it's quite humiliating actually, having an eleven-year-old sibling who's more than a foot taller than you when you're sixteen.

“Anyway, uncle Broadway came over and dropped off another check for us,” he speaks, handing me a embossed black-and-silver envelope.  
Thank god for a guy like uncle Broadway and other assortments of rich uncles. Without him and his checks, I don’t know where we would be now(probably on the street eating out of trash cans with what I’m being paid). He’s also kind of a weird dude too; one strange night, at two in the morning- I could have sworn it was a bizarre dream but turned out to be real when my uncle asked me not to tell anyone in the morning after- I walked down stairs to get some water and found him sitting in the living room, in only a wife beater, briefs( that looked a bit on the unwashed side mind you) and his spectacle, eating a tub of my Oreo ice cream and sliced pickles while watching My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic. I asked him “What are you doing?” And he then responded with, “Getting off.”

I’ve never ran faster in my goddamned life, suddenly no longer feeling thirsty but queasy and filthy; as if I showed my little brother porn. That was quite the event… But hey; I ain’t judgin’! (Yes I am).

I open the envelope as gingerly as possible, the quality of the wrapping is too good for a dirty-free loading-teenage-peasant. And so is what’s inside.

A nice three-grand-and-a-half for my troubles, thanks, Unc.

“Would you like some spaghetti, brother?” Papyrus asks me kindly.

“Uh…” I trail off. No offense, but my sibling’s cooking is almost… inedible. But nevertheless, I don’t want to hurt his feelings so I respond with, “I’m not hungry right now, I’ll get some later, Pap.”

“Suit yourself,” he says, turning back to the kitchen to serve himself, “I’ll leave a plate out for you!”

Stupendous.

Not having a second thought, I rush to my room and shut the door, panicking again, looking for something at least half decent. I’m usually so lazy that I don’t care what my appearance looks like so I throw on and buy the most comfortable stuff I can find. But this time around, I got a date, so I have to make my appearance count. ‘Just be yourself’, Napstablook’s voice rings in my head. Yeah. Just be myself, huh? Because that’s all I can be, right?

I settle on a thick, striped black-and-grey hoodie and my casual skinny jeans and take them into the bathroom with me along with some socks. I lock the door and turn on the shower and running it until it was hot. Stepping into the shower, I grab at a bar of soap and a small towel and began cleaning myself. Even though skeletons like me and my family don’t secret oils and fluids like humans and some monsters, we still clean ourselves around once a month, since we get plaque and calcium buildup after a while. We don’t really have showers and baths in the Underground like they do up here, but I’ve came to absolutely adore them. Skeletons get cold extremely easily, because we’re so thin, so I either pray to whatever deity is in the sky for summer to come sooner, or take a nice hot shower, sitting down in the tub, which is what I’m doing now. I close my eyes, wrapping my arms around my legs, pulling my knees up to my rib cage, and closing my eyes, basking in the heat of the liquid streaming from the shower head above. I can feel the hot water seeping in past my eyelids and into my nose, running down the inside of my skull and dripping out of the crevice between my chin and neck. I sigh in content; I could stay this way forever, with the sultry water and steam engulfing my bones, running down into every single nook, cranny, and divot. Too bad I can’t stay in here for the rest of the night, and stay away from the social anxiety attacks that await me. Oh well, so is life.

I finish washing up and reluctantly turned off the shower and began drying myself off. I look at the fading condensation that still clings to the mirror, and begin to wipe it off. I stare at myself in the mirror, suddenly feeling self-conscious; I really do look like a walking Halloween decoration, except my smile is a little more goofy than the ones around that late autumn holiday. And I’m a lot shorter and wider than the creepy decor. Many of my friends say my height, round face,wide eyes, and tiny frame make me extremely cute but it honestly really sucks. I have to buy most of my clothes in the women’s section of the store, because they don’t have my size in men’s department, and I look half my age to boot.

My white irises dart over to my ulnae and radii, and skim over the deep, but healed cuts and gashes that riddled all over them, and I suddenly feel a pang of shame and humiliation, even though I’m the only one in the room. I brush my hands over the scars that blight the white of my bones, reminiscing the past pain, agony, and oppression. The mockery, the strange looks, the mental, emotional, and physical abuse I got in my own home, at such a young age. How it was my fault that…

 _No_ , I can’t let the past get me down on a night like this; this is suppose to be fun, and happy, not depressing and dark. I am done drying myself off, I quickly shake off the thoughts of my past and then I quickly toss on my shirt, hoodie, jeans( size two in women’s unfortunately), and my socks and Vans. _Damn_! I’m sure I look ready for a meeting with the president in this fancy-ass outfit! (I’m being sarcastic-you should know this by now).

I take a deep breath, and exhale, now looking at myself in the mirror, feeling rejuvenated and happy with myself. I guess people are right; I do look kind of cute if you think about it. I check my phone that I left sitting on the bathroom sink top and saw that the time read eight fifty-seven; Blooks should be here by now, and Papyrus should be asleep by now. I feel a bit guilty that I didn’t read him his nightly bedtime story, but I’ll be sure to make it up to him tomorrow. Tonight, is my night to have fun; isn’t that okay once in awhile?

I grab my phone and a couple bucks back in my room before quietly sneaking off into the living room, turning off all the lights and opening the front door, to be greeted by Napstablook- oh, wow…

He’s in his mechanical body that Alphys made him, looking like a blue and white version of Mettaton, and still, slightly nervous. “What do you think?” He asks quietly.

“You… look so amazing Blooks.” I say, skimming his new body up and down, smiling as I did so.

“Your outfit is perfect for this Sans,” the ghost in the machine(heh, heh...puns) complements me sweetly, “Y-you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” I reply, locking up the fort- more like ‘the shack’- with my key, “let’s go.”

‘He’s so cute,’ I think with a light tinge of blue nestling on my cheeks for some unknown reason.

We start walking when the phantom-robot tells me, “Mettaton’s parties get pretty crazy, that’s why I don’t go to them very often. So just let me know if you wanna leave.”

I shake my cranium and grin, saying, “Don’t worry about me, I’m sure I’ll be fine!”

The thought of the party and that mysterious blind-date guy… filled me with determination!

 

***

  
We are now on the outskirts of our small town and I can already hear the bass of the obnoxiously loud music, and feel the beat resonating in my bones. I look over the hill that me and Blooky are walking up and gasp. I know that Mettaton is rich of being an entertainer but… holy hell! I gaze over at the monumental mansion lit up like a Christmas tree that shown out into the distance that seems to be surrounded by hundreds- literal hundreds- of both humans and monsters alike. There was a bonfire going off to the side as well, and probably bottles and blunts being passed around too. On top of that I’ve never seen humans and monsters get along like this, just so carefree, so comfortable with each other, so diverse and welcoming. Finally, somewhere where we can all get along, in peace, without any of the maltreatment and brutality from the outside world.

“Dude, Blooks,” I beam, my mouth so wide that it almost looks maniacal, “let’s do this!”

“Ah! Sans, slow d-down!” The robot yelps as I grab him by the arm and drag him across the flat terrain.

When we get to the one- story -tall water fountain that’s already littered with beer bottles and cigarette butts I slow down and allowed my senses to take in the scene around me. Colors dance right before my eyes and the trap music is now _blaring_ in my ear sockets. Everyone was drinking, smoking, just having a good time, or getting absolutely shit-faced. Some of the girls here I recognize from school are here, but this time they’re wearing shorts so short they can pass for belts, but that didn’t really do anything for me. The whole place smells of food and alcohol and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Pretty cool h-huh?” Blooks yells over the loud music to catch my attention.

Before I can respond, some random hipster-looking girl dressed in long flannel comes up to use with two unopened beers in each of her hands and holds them out to us with a slightly tipsy grin. Hell yes. Both Blooks and I accept the drinks with “thank yous” and cracked them open. My mecha companion has a nervous look on his metallic face but takes a swig anyway, scrunching up and grimacing in return and making me laugh. Bottoms up; I take my own sip of the alcohol and it’s bitter, ice cold, sweet and comes with a slow burn- I love it.

I wrap my arm around Blooky and step inside the house after walking through the crowded brick path, making my way through the giant, gilded, twin doors to be automatically welcomed by the ‘robot of the night’ himself.

“Sans! Napstablook! Darlings!” Mettaton exclaims in his booming voice, “So happy that you two could make it!” He pulls us in for hugs and if it wasn’t for my magic catching it, I would have spilled my beer.

“Yeah, thanks… heh,” I pulled away a bit.

“Sans, I’ll be with Undyne and Alphys; catch you later. Before he goes off he adds, “Oh, yeah, and good luck with your date!”

 _“Oh yes!”_ Mettaton gasps suddenly, “The date! Come with me sweetheart~”

“Okay,” I exhale with nervous anticipation, “But don’t call me sweetheart.”

“You’ve got it, honey-melon~”

Dammit.

Mettaton takes me by the hand and guided me through hordes upon hordes of partying teens and young college students and monsters in their twenties. This gives me a chance to take a look around at the astonishing mansion; the extremely high ceilings, an enormous and oblique spiraling staircase, rows of porcelain and diamond chandeliers dangling from up above, the furniture that is worth more money than everything in my house combined. It is all lavish and exotic in every sense of the word, and then some.

We finally make our way to a very large, wooden and polished bar that was once crowded but now parting way for Mettaton.

“Oliver, honey-darling!” The robot entertainer calls to a guy who was sitting at the counter with his back turned to us, “This is the adorably charming little skeleton I’ve been telling you about~”

The young man named Oliver turned around and… and… and…

...And this is the guy?

_Holy fuck._


	2. Heartbreak Two: A Night To Remember, A Morning To Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so happy that I got 100 hits on my first chapter! I don't know if that's a really small amount or a really large one, but I'm happy! :) So, as a warning, this chapter has a sex scene in it( you guys will probably enjoy it), so if you don't like that, you might want to skip this chapter, but the rest of the story won't make a lot of sense to you. So yeah, hope you like this! Constructive criticism is always allowed here, so leave comments suggesting changes. :)

“Hey, there,” Oliver chimes sweetly in a deep, luxurious voice, smiling pleasantly at me, “So you’re the little skeleton I’ve heard so much about.”

I can’t help but blush, my eye sockets going wide with a strange mixture of admiration, longing, and, something else that I can’t put my finger on, but feels like fluttering in my soul and metaphorical stomach. His voice is just so soft and velvety that it makes my whole being shake all over.

“H-hi,” I stutter, my voice cracking as puberty floods back into my throat.

Smooth.

He giggles quite bubbly and gestures me to sit with him at the bar. My legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly as I step over, setting my beer on the counter and taking my seat on the fluffy seat cushion. I turn around and find that Mettaton has left us alone; and I am left to fend for myself.

I glance over to my date-well, it was suppose to be only a glance, but... my eyes become glued to him as fast as they landed on his beautiful figure. I quickly begin to skim my sight all over Oliver, and I let out a romantic sigh- I just can’t help it!

His hair, is flipped to the side, and half shaven, one large section of it standing out as acid green in an otherwise ink black sea. His skin was milky and pale, nearly cream in color and littered with pieces of silver jewelry; piercings. His eyes… he had hetero chromia; one was a honey-hazel, warm and welcoming and the other was an ice blue, vivid and serious. He was wearing all black too, just like me. My eyes latch onto his hand and he drags one through that gorgeous hair, pulling it back and swiping his bangs to the side…

“Like what you see?” He grins at me devilishly, giving me a rather enticingly flirty speculation along with his creamy voice.

I quickly shoot my pupils anywhere else except his face, my cheeks burning a hot blue and giving a nervous laugh.

“S-sorry,” I mumble under my breath and the loud booming music coming from the speakers.

“Mettaton is right; you are too cute~”

I am now totally cobalt in the face, my hands sweaty and squirming in the pockets of my hoodie. I’m screaming on the inside: _‘oh my god, he thinks I’m cute!’_ My averted eyes quiver in place, threatening to explode in a fit of fireworks. Did it just get hotter in here?

“So, you’re Sans huh? Like the font?”

My flush fades slightly as I glare indignantly at Oliver; it wouldn’t be the first time someone made fun of me because I am named after a font, but one of these days it’ll be the last! I was about to tell him off and snap at him but upon looking into his dual colored gaze and his smile, I find that his question is genuine and not in any way contumelious.

“Uh yeah,” I answer, “Like the font.”

“Is it Comic of Seriff?”

I begin my nervous habits again, pulling and tugging at the sleeves of my hoodie, an anxious grin wrenching at the corners of my mouth, “Ah… um, m-my full name i-is Comic Sans Calibri.”

Oliver grins complimenting, “That’s so cool. I wish I was given a more unique name like that, instead of Oliver Eves.”

‘But your name is so perfect, just like you,’ I think to myself, my blush returning in full swing again. Yeah, it really _did_ just get hotter in here.

“So is like, every skeleton monster named after a font?”

He smiles again at me, and this time, instead of avoiding him, I smile back, saying, “Pretty much. It’s a tradition.”

“Got any other family with cool names?”

I begin to feel relaxed, composed, and I pull my hands from my pockets, resting them on the bar top. “Well, I have a little brother named Papyrus, and my mom was named Alegreya, and my father was W.D. Gaster.”

“Like, the royal scientist who created the core in the Underground?” Oliver beams, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah. Wing Dings Gaster.” I repeat myself, trying to face the other way. I’m not up to speaking about the devastation of my childhood.

“So what were they like when you were a kid?”

I wheeze and my eye sockets go vacant. Because _that’s_ the _exact_ thing _I_ want to talk about. (I’m being sarcastic).

I laugh nervously, trying to change the subject, “Heh heh. It’s… complicated to say the least.”

“I see,” surprisingly he gets the hint that I don’t want to talk about it, and instead reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black wallet. “Let me buy you a drink.”

I swiftly turn down the offer, not wanting him to spend his money on me. “No, it’s fine, I’ve got a beer,” I show him the half drunken bottle… that he grabs out of my hand, chugs quickly and tosses carelessly behind him.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

I stare at him in awe, watching him give the bartender a twenty. I like this guy already.

“Um, Oliver?” I mummer, tugging apprehensively on his shirt, trying to get his attention.

“Please, call me Ollie,” he says, taking my hand and holding it in his.

I lose it. Yep; it’s definitely hotter than usual. A luminescent cyan settles on my cheeks and I smile weakly, perceiving the throbbing warmth coming from both of our hands. So this is what it feels like to hold hands romantically, this is what it feels like to be close to someone, this is why people do these kinds of things.

“I want to know things about you too Ollie,” I say, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

It feels like it goes by like minutes, but probably was hours worth of chatting about all different kinds of subjects that range from hobbies to politics. It was strange, being able to be myself and discovering so many common things with a stranger I’ve just met. I didn’t know that this could go so well, with me being a not-so-vocal monster myself. I am most shocked to realize that Ollie knows what Megalotropolis is; the most underground indie animated series you could ever watch. I mostly just 'fanboyed' over the fact that we have the same phone cases, that says “Get Dunked On”, the most famous line from the show that is uttered by the main character in the last episode. While we were still talking, we finally get our drinks and I marvel; two long glasses whose contents look akin to lava lamps with their vibrant oranges, pinks, and reds. I reach for the cup and take one long sip, and reel into a hoarse coughing fit. What appears to be an innocent drink, turns out to have a scorching cinnamon and vodka punch under its fruity flavor.

“Is it too strong for you?” Ollie asks politely, “I can buy you something else.”

“N-no, Ollie, it’s fine. You shouldn’t spend anymore money on me.”

“You sure?”

“Uh, yeah,” I wave off and took another swig, when I feel a tender hand rubbing my back and spine through my clothing, making me suddenly shiver in surprise. I flush absolutely profoundly, and it isn’t from the alcohol.

“I-I’m s-sorry!” I whine, embarrassed out of my mind, not wanting to meet his binary gaze. This really can’t get any worse.

But I can sense Ollie lacing his fingers through my skeletal ones, the flesh so warm and flush against my bones. “It’s fine,” he says, entwining our fingers in a ‘waffle style’ hold. I peek at him, his geminated eyes dancing with amour and dalliance on my own. I… I’ve never felt so… different and wound up when I stare back into his eyes, but it makes me curious. So I in turn, take both of his hands in mine, and begin to embrace and caress them, stroking the supple flesh. I glance up and find him smiling and felt him rubbing back with the same amount of passionate vigor, and that makes me happy.

“Hey! Sans!”I suddenly hear a familiar, butch voice ring out over the crowded bar.

It was Undyne along with Blooky, Muffet, and Alphys- unsurprisingly, Alphys and Blooks looked like they are not in their element. Blushing hard, I quickly pull away my hands from Ollie’s and tuck them into my jacket pockets. “Hey guys!” I welcome with a smile that reflects a bit too much of my inner turmoil. But all was useless because Undyne already knows what’s up.

She grins her maniacal shark tooth grin and pointed straight at me, jeering, “Looks like someone found his little friend~” she teases me.

I smirk back, just as provoking. “Yeah, guess I’m not _bonely_ after all~”

Everyone cringes at that pun- except for Ollie who looks blissfully unaware. My eyes suddenly get caught on Muffet, and my stomach turns and does an uncomfortable flip. She looks utterly crestfallen; she must have spotted me and my date holding hands before. I wince, my soul painfully palpitating for the poor goth. I hope we can still be friends after this.

“W-well, introduce us,” Blooky asks, almost ogling my date which gives me a pang of jealousy that I quickly brush aside. Jeez, so many weird feelings tonight.

“Blooky, Undyne, Alphys, Muffet, this is Ollie.”

My friends seem to be taking him quite well- except for Muffet who stares blankly with her several eyes into him. I rip my attention away from her, not wanting to feel any worse than I already am and latch onto a strange, devious look Undyne was giving me and my date, and I know something’s afoot(more like something’s ‘afin’).

Here we go.

“So you’re the guy Mettaton hooked Sans up with huh?” She asked in her most duplicitous voice, her simper making me sweat.

“That would be me,” Ollie shakes her hand, oblivious to her plotting.

“You know Ollie, you’re not too bad in the looks category,” the warrior grins mischievously and winks at me.

I cough, my leg starting to tremble with pure anxiety, the thought of my love interest leaving because of my friends being stupid really rattled me up.  
“Undyne, you’re gay, so you shouldn’t even find him attractive,” I huff, proud of my comeback.

“But Undyne seems to be at the top of her game tonight, coming back with, “Yeah you’re right about that Sans, but I _do_ in fact know a good looking person when I see one! Also, um, aren’t you gay too for a matter of fact?”

An angry blush spreads across my face, but I give a weary glimpse to Muffet, who looks to be completely crushed, wiping shimmering tears from the corners of her eyes.

“I… don’t know if I’m gay just… just leave dammit.”

“Welp, you seem like you don’t want us anymore,” Undyne smiles towards Ollie, “But may I ask, Sans, what do you think of Ollie so far?”

I bite down on the bottom of my jaw and steal a glance from my new found crush, who had a bit of a sparkle in his eye.

“Y-yeah Sans, what do you think of him?” Alphys chimes in, ignorant of what her girlfriend is doing to me.

I look to the yellow lizard and exhale thoughtfully before reaching over to hold Ollie’s hand ‘waffle style’ again.

I’m sorry, Muffet.

“Yeah, Alph,” I say, amused, “I like him a ton. A skele _ton_!”

Everyone shudders except the Muffet, me, and Ollie; the goth’s gaze drops to the floor to look down at her feet, I smile but behind my facade, I felt the person who’s in love with me heart shatter in a million tiny pieces. But Ollie is fine; Ollie simply laughed.

“Well, I’m gonna grab some more beer and dance! C’mon, Alph!”

And just like that, the warrior fish drags all three of them off, leaving me and Ollie in peace once again.

“Do you want to dance?” My date asks me.

I cringe. “Heh. I don’t dance.”

“Good me neither.”

I laugh with him and turn to look at him once more, but when I meet his binary eyes, the emotions that are being expressed within them are strikingly sensuous and wistful. The look elicits something strange inside me again that fazes my entire body; my soul fluttering around hopefully like a trapped, feverish bird in my rib cage and my skull starts to get all stuffy and humid again, and it’s not from the alcohol. I can sense the oddest vibe in my metaphorical stomach as well; this weird… ‘pooling’ feeling? It isn’t painful but incredibly strong, heightening my susceptibility tenfold.

“Sans,” Ollie snaps me out of my tantalizing, ecstasy filled trance.

“H-huh? What?”

“Let me know if I’m going to fast for you, okay?”

I give him a perplexing look, raising a brow line when I yelp, feeling him lift me up and sit me down into his lap. A solid teal cakes my whole face and start of my neck as I let out a quiet noise that was bubbling up in my throat. Ollie feels so warm underneath me and his arms around me wrapping me up in kind hospitality and I can feel his multicolored hair and eyes both tickling at me. The silver jewelry in his face- especially around his mouth and nose area gently scrape the top of my cranium that rests on his broad chest. I’ve never felt so safe, so content in my entire life span. But all good things come to an end when I sense Ollie kiss my cervical vertebrae and run his lips down the length of my neck, pulling back the fabric of my hood to reveal more bone.

It’s hotter than hell in here, now.

“Ollie!” I gasp, half in shock, half in pleasure, “N-not h-here; there’s too many people.”

“Then let’s go outside,” he says handing me another beer and letting me up.

I mummer a "thank you" to him but stand in place, frozen as he leans in and whispers in my ear socket, “Come with me.” The hot breath billowing in my ear makes me shiver with excitement and encourages me to follow my date’s request.

He takes my hand in his once more, and gripping the neck of my beer, I follow him as he leads me through the floods of raving party goers and out the mammoth twin doors of Mettaton’s mansion, listening to the last remains of the screaming crowds and the beat of the heavy rapping. As a complete one-eighty of the booming, crazy party that’s now far behind us with bright flashing lights, out here on the countryside is so quiet and serene, the atmosphere completely changing. The moon is full, and placid, floating like a dull white beacon in the sky, every so often a gust of wind blows the warm, summer air, and in a few, couple second intervals, tiny green lights of fireflies would spark and flicker around us in the tall grass. This couldn’t be more perfect.

We come up to a car; a black Mustang that was a little scratched up here and there, but still quite nice. Ollie climbs up on the hood, laying down on the glass windshield, holding out a hand to beckon me over. I crawl up on the car after him, settling into his hold before sipping my beer. I rest my skull into the crook of his neck, the spot between his neck and shoulder, drape a leg over his thighs, straddling my hips on his side, and danced a skeletal finger over his chest, skimming and drawing intricate, circular patterns in the fabric of his shirt. A light blue blush settles on my cheeks again when I felt his hand begin to rub and massage my knee, and work its way up.

“You’re so cute when you blush, Sans,” Ollie mummers as gingerly as the wind weaving between the two of us, which results in my cheeks deepening in color and him laughing.

“You, know Ollie,” I start, reclining into the steady rise and fall of his breath in his chest, “when I lived in the Underground… we didn’t have stars and a moon like this.” I continue, still awestruck at all the tiny little white, blue and silver dots that decorate the sky like candles on a navy blue backdrop, “The closest we had, was Waterfall; a cave where we had lights and shiny gems that mimic stars, but it will never come close to something like this.” I smile, remembering how I’d take Papyrus there so he can make all his secret wishes. “Us monsters, would make so many aspirations among those artificial lights, including me, back when I was innocent. Back when I believed in such things. But I stopped believing because I knew that it would never come true.”

I can feel tears welling up in my eye sockets and I bury my face into his neck. “But now maybe I can wish upon these stars, and my dreams will come true.”

A few seconds pass by, the noise of chirping crickets loud and strong in my ears before Ollie speaks, “Sans. Look at me.”

I turn my neck up, to stare into those breathtaking, Gemini eyes, both dusty chestnut and shimmering ocean brimming with aching repentance. “Are you okay, Sans? Are you… happy?”

My brow pinches together in tense misery and depression, my woes coming back to haunt me. “No, I’m not happy, Oliver,” my calm, steady voice betrays what I’m truly feeling inside, “But it’s not your fault; I’ve been this way for a long time because of my abusive home.”

Ollie hugs me close, making me drop my beer into the grass, but I don’t care. I instead wrap my hands around his broad, wide shoulders, now completely on top of him. I feel him rubbing deep, alleviating circles into my back as well, and I whisper him a thank you. “Even though,” I start again, and even though I can’t see him, I can tell that he’s listening with intent, “my life is full of regrets, and pain, and abuse, and hardships, and sleepless nights,at times like these, it’s all worth it. Tiny little slices of life like this- like being with you, makes me happy, Ollie. I’m so happy right now.”

Ollie remains quiet but I can feel a difference in his breathing and I nestle myself further into his warmth. “Don’t feel sorry for me,” I say. “Don’t get sad because tonight, is a happy night.”

I close my eyes, listening to the soft chirping of the crickets and leaning into the bliss of my partner. I begin to doze off into sleep when I hear Ollie say my name.

“What’s up?” I answer with a yawn.

“Are you gay?”

“Oh!” I am extremely astonished as that question came out of the blue. “Uh, I don’t know, maybe?” I glance up at him and find that he has that same look from earlier in his eyes. The one that makes me blush and get all fidgety. “I-I’ve never dated before, I-I uh um-”

“Because tonight, I want to make you feel special and beautiful, Sans. I want to let you know that someone out there loves you, and cares about you.”

I’ve spent the whole night with this guy- I should be over all the warm fuzzy feelings and butterflies and shyness but… the things he does to me. The things those eyes do to me, that voice, that face, those hands do to me…

I stare at him, jaw gaping and eyes blown out to the size of saucers, my body growing impeccably feverish on top of my partner. After years upon years of building up such a high and thick wall to block out any more oppression, Ollie had just knocked it down in one fell swoop. I can feel myself melting and being molded by his touch, my soul opening up to him, my coarse and blunt facade falling away and revealing the true, fragile me. The look in his eyes, free me, liberates me, _gives me purpose_. For the first time, I’m taking my guard down and allow someone I trust inside, letting only Ollie cloud my mind.

“I’m sorry I brought up a sensitive topic like that, Sans,” he says in a hushed, stern voice, “But I want to get to know you better, I want you, and I think I-”

“Ollie, I’m in love with you!”

Those words, that I never thought I would say, spill from my mouth as if a dam was at the back of my throat, blocking all of my emotions from ever being vocalized, finally breaking under the pressure. Ollie smiles, his beautiful smile and caresses my cheeks, a small tint of red coloring his face; just as blue tints mine, now that I’ve confessed. We stay like that, staring into each other’s eyes, sparking yearning and love between the two of us.

“I love you too, Sans.”

Vehement joy and intense affection overwhelms me, making my head spin as I hear those three special words leave his mouth as he idolizes me. My breath hitches as our eyes share passionate, almost desperate glances, my head getting murky again when he confessed.

“Sans, have you ever kissed anyone?”

“No, I haven’t,” I whisper, that pooling sensation returning to my gut, arousal being kindled within me.

“May I be your first?”

I mouth opens in surprise, my hitched breath catching in my throat, a deep vibration passing through me from the thought of finally getting my first kiss. I can’t find a trace of immoral desire in Ollie’s eyes; only pure, virtuous love for me that made me feel at ease. His dualistic brown and blue eyes divulge affection and patient waiting for my answer. Overjoyed, I nod yes, my cheeks blossoming with more cyan than ever when my partner sat up with me, lifting me into his lap, making me straddle his hips. With his hands resting on both my ilium, I wrap my skinny little legs around his waist, barely able to get them completely around because I’m so short. Ollie complies by pulling my hips forward until the front of my pelvis was flush against his lower stomach, my ankles around his back locking together to secure us. I finally fold my arms around his neck, and our eyes meet yet again, my white ones and his brown and blues. I can feel his heart racing along with my soul, taking my breath away, pushing up against him, craving, itching, desiring for the closeness. It feels like an eternity of everlasting prospect before Ollie flutters his eyes shut and he tilted his head to the right, resting one of his hands on the back of my skull. I mimic his motions and lean in as well, closing my eyes and awaiting the bliss.

When Ollie pushes his lips up against my teeth, I couldn’t help but moan in pleasure; it just felt so goddamn good! The way he presses his whole body into me, his heat and amour radiating through my bones, making my senses become twice as alarmed and making my head go fuzzy with thrilling ardor. My soul throbs and pulses so hard in my rib cage, I felt as though it is going to fly out. A few more heated seconds resonate between us until we have to heart achingly pull away from each other with remorse, for the need of oxygen was growing too great for the both of us. Our breaths come in fevered huffs and pants, both of our faces were flushed beyond belief. I wipe away a trail of drool that dribbles down my chin seductively, pulling away the transparent blue strings with a single finger. Before I knew it, we were back at it again, planting hot kisses on each other’s mouths, enjoying each other’s company. Swiftly but gently, Ollie switches our positions on the hood of his Mustang, so he is looming over me, hands anchored on either side of my head, and my legs are spread so far-reaching that they are on either side of his body, wide open and bold. Oh, how my father would beat me absolutely senseless if he found me in a dirty position such as this. I’m sure the look on my face is the exact opposite- bashful and tucked away into the hood of my jacket.

“Sans,” Oliver heaves, sending trembles into me that fleet down my spine and gather in my pelvis, “look at me, and open your mouth.”

I execute this obediently, parting my teeth, spectating my boyfriend through half lidded eye sockets. Slowly, he descends down on me, and nimbly, slips his pierced tongue inside my mouth, exploring each and every crevice of my inner cavern. For a moment, my body goes rigid with in-expectancy: the hot, wet appendage flicking around eagerly in my mouth along with the small metal ball wriggling inside making me arch my spine off the car hood. I gasp, my eyes rolling to the back of my cranium as my grasp on my surroundings fade.

‘Oh, Ollie, yes~’

To in turn meet him halfway, I conjure up a blue tongue with my magic and start swirling it around his, our supplements dancing and warping together in a sexual act of passion, showing each other how much we love one another. A satisfying purr rumbles deep in Ollie’s chest, vibrating against me, making me even hotter. I reach up, hooking my skeletal grip on the windshield wipers, allowing Ollie full, free reign on my body as we keep going; our tongues bending, curving and twisting with fierce craving, his piercing grazing against mine, bringing me pleasure. We pull away yet again, and I am left gasping in a mix of a lack of breath and being turned on quite hard.

“Is that tongue your magic, Sans?” Ollie whispers, his voice husky and dripping with erotic amatory, “Is it because of me?”

He leans in next to my ear socket, cocking his head at an angle and dragging his tongue up the length of my crown, “Is it because I’m getting you all hot and bothered?”

My face glows and even deeper marine, if that’s even possible. “I-it’s your fault!” I pout, contorting my face to show distaste. Ollie giggles, calling me cute again.

“That’s not what your body is telling me, Sansy~” He croons, before diving back down to commence more kissing.

Before long, we are making out, utterly shameless, our tongues tangle like our entwined fingers, saliva mixing and oozing down both of our chins. My mind is blank and somewhere else, as Ollie mashes his lips against my teeth, and slithers his appendage down my throat. I feel him abruptly hook both hands up under my knees, and pull my legs apart as far as the could possibly go. That’s when my eyes shoot open, pupils dilating to the size of white moons as I feel something hard and thick grind against the center of my pelvis. It was repeated and I’m overcome with euphoria. Every time Ollie bucks his hips into mine a loud, tantalizing, sultry moan escapes my throat, wafting up into the summer night air.

Thrust.

“Ahuh~!”

Thrust.

“Ahhun!”

Thrust.

“Ahhhn~!”

I can’t; I need to get him to slow down- I feel like I’m going to explode! It also doesn’t help that I don’t only feel the pooling sensation in my crotch, but also a seeping wetness leaking there as well. But as I was just about to tell him ‘that’s enough’, he suddenly stops and I’m half gracious that he did so I can catch my breath and half irritated that the heat radiating from my pelvis ebbed away to a small tingle.

“Sans, I wish we can continue,” Ollie mummers to me ascending back upwards, “But the things I want to do should be done in privacy. So would you let me take you back to my place?”

My jaw drops yet again in awe and excitement. Wait… does this mean… he wants to…? (Of course it does, you damn idiot!)

Scooting off the black Mustang, Ollie gets out his keys and unlocked the doors, letting me sit in the passenger seat. “Are you okay to drive?” I ask politely.

“Yeah, I didn’t have that much,” he says with a grin.

We pull out onto the dirt road and drove away. I glance back at the terrain, noticing the beer bottle I dropped and smiled. A memory of my first kiss. I take out my phone from my pocket; two- fifty; a thirty minute make-out session. I quickly text Blooky, letting him know that I won’t be needing a ride or anything.

***  
We arrive at Ollie’s house, a small, quaint ranch in a cute little neighborhood that is a rich crimson and cream in color. Driving up in the small, narrow driveway, my boyfriend parks his car on the tar pavement, taking his key and stepping out. I quickly follow him to the front door- wood and decorative glass covering the manifestation- and looking out onto the humble porch that bears two chairs, a coffee table, and some plants, before he takes me inside.

“I live alone so there’s no one who can interrupt us here,” he says, showing me around the petite living area.

“What happened to your family?” I inquire softly, not wanting to pry too much. I look around the room, at all the little photographs that are stocked on the wooden shelves of people I don’t recognize.

“Nothing really,” he shrugs, “We just argued and disagreed a lot so I decided that it was time to move out.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I’m not that good at dealing with other people’s problems, let alone my own.

“So it’s just me and my cats!” He says, much more lightly and as if it were on cue, two small kittens dart into the living area and welcome us. I feel a grin pulling at the edges of my mouth as they weave in between and press up against my shins, purring and rubbing all over my legs.

“I see that Tiger and Oreo like your company, Sans,” Ollie muses.

“I am a cat person myself,” I chuckle, petting the felines between their ears, one calico striped and the other black-and-white, “Dogs are a bit energetic and loud for my taste.”

The two cats then scamper off through a dark doorway and out of sight, leaving me with their shed fur. Thanks for the welcoming gift.

“Now, where were we, love?” Ollie comes behind me and sweeps me off my feet, bridal style, like a princess. I squeak in surprise but giggle when he nuzzles against my face and begins carrying me down a short hallway, that was a warm and approachable, the colors warm and dusky, relaxing my body along with Ollie’s heat. More picture frames and vases dot the corridor, matching the wooden floors and crimson walls. That’s when Ollie makes a left to a dingy white door, and lifted me up to it.

“Open the door,” my boyfriend directs in a quiet, sweet voice.

I reach out and turn the doorknob, bubbly and excited for what is to come later. I push open the entryway and find that inside is his bedroom; a cozy and snug scope that is cluttered with posters collages, and miscellaneous black clothing strewn about the chestnut hardwood floors- it kind of reminds me of my own room, except slightly more well kept. In the corner, next to the large, curtain covered window sits a cute little nightstand with a black lamp and a matching alarm clock, and a queen sized bed with deep, silky red sheets.

“Sorry for not picking up before I brought you here,” Oliver says, carrying me over to the bed, “I can be kind of messy, ‘cause I don’t have anyone nagging at me to clean.”

I shake my head, replying, “Nah, it’s fine. If you think this is messy, you should see my own room.”

My partner chuckles before laying me ceremoniously on the furniture, resting my body on the comforter, lulling my head on a satiny pillow.

“I need to ask you some questions first, if we are to do anything,” whispers Ollie, tender yet stern and sincere.

I nod my head, watching him as he digs through his stand and pulls out a bottle of some sort of thick liquid before settling down next to me. I clamber into his lap, where he drapes my body across his, putting my cranium back into the crook of his neck, and I start rubbing circles into his chest again, listening to the tempo and flow of his breath.

“I like you a lot, Sans, I really, truly do,” he coos to me rocking me back and forth in his lap, grasping my attention, as I look to him with wide, blown out eyes as he says his next words, “And… I want to make love to you.”

I blush hard, a dark marine blue manifesting on my porcelain white face. Oh my god; so soon? Sex on the first date?

“But it’s our first date,” I counter, “doesn’t that make me kind of… I don’t know. Slutty?”

Ollie gives me a patient smile and shakes his head, giving my cheek a long, syrupy stroke. “Sleeping around with twenty people and hurting your loved ones mentally and emotionally makes you slutty. You should only have sex if you are ready, and you and your partner give each other full, true consent. You can keep your virginity for as long as you and your partner are willing to as well, I don’t judge. You can wait until marriage, if you want, Sans, no matter what anyone thinks or says. Or, you can let me take you now. The choice is yours, baby.”

I thought through this profusely. Should I wait and save myself? I’m only sixteen and I have my whole life ahead of me; I don’t need to rush anything. But at the same time, I am curious and wanting. Ollie has been so nice to me so far, making me happy, making me feel right at home, trusting me: a monster, enough to allow me into his own home. I’m kind of afraid though, the fact that I hold myself at such high standards and the fact that I value my morality so highly it gets in the way of my lust filled inquisitive. I gulp, folding my arms protectively around me. And then I remember bitterly, how I was told that I’m probably never going to have someone, based on just my appearance, and I frown.

“Are _you_ sure you want to do something like this, Ollie?” I say, a slightly acidic sharpness to my voice, “Are you sure you want to have sex with a walking, Halloween decoration?”

Ollie hauls my rooted grip away from my rib cage, and holds one of my hands instead, massaging my knuckles and metacarpals before bringing them up to his lips, and kissing them.

“Is that what they call you? The people who are too ignorant and bigoted to see who you really are?”

Oh. That unexpected response hits home for me. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, when he says that, my soul lurching in agony at the truth. I pull my hand from his, pushing my sleeves over my hands, closing myself off from Ollie.

“You’re hiding from me.” He says, lifting my sleeves up, revealing my blighted radii and ulnae, frightening me, “Please, don’t hide.”

“Ollie, don-” I didn’t have time to finish my sentence when he started graces and adorns my bones with gentle, fluttering kisses, light and sweet. I slip my eyes shut with comfort and gratitude, sighing with thanks as he decorates my arms and hands in honeyed nothings, giving each individual bone quality time and care. With my soul floating on air, I crack an eye socket at him, glancing at him when I feel him stop, but my comforted soul that levitated on cloud nine soon drops out in dread, as I see my crush eyeing the healed slits on my wrists.

“Ollie….” The tears that are threatening to spill over, finally do, leaving shimmering trails down my cheek bones that reflect the dull glow as the lamp. His eyes, once alluring, turns dull with grief and pity, hetero chromatic pools darting over the dark scars, mouth trembling with despair. I turn away, ashamed. Maybe this is a bad idea.

“Sans.”

I bow my head, unable to meet his ocean blue and chocolate brown gaze. His voice sounds… like nothing I’ve ever heard before; I can’t describe the emotion that is being conveyed from him, but it makes me immediately burst into muffled tears. I would later find that his tone of voice mirrors that of something I’ve had lost at young age; a mother.

“Sans, please look at me.” He whispers, kissing me on the forehead, “I’m not mad. I could never get mad at you.”

He smears away my tears with his thumbs until they are nothing more than faint, drying streaks. He’s trying to wipe away my past, my pain, but it could never happen...ever.

He angles my face towards his, forcing me to look at him, my tears rising up once again. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I croak, my throat going dry and sparse.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for _anything_ , Sans,” Ollie snaps, making me flinch in his lap. All of the lightheartedness of the situation has been cast to the winds, “No matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone does to you, you’re still amazing in so many ways. I want to show you, that if you look deeper, that you’re such a beautiful creature. You’re cute, gorgeous, loving, compassionate, funny, angelic, so kind hearted. You go out of your way, to make sure other people, and your sibling, everyone around you doesn’t worry about you. You try to play off your suffering, because you care more about everyone else than yourself, and I think it’s about time you get taken care of.”

He leans down to me, his warm breath tickling my mouth, “No matter what society thinks of you, no matter what the world thinks of you, you’re beautiful Sans. You should love who you are, and realize your beauty, and I want to help you find inner peace. You’ve learned the hard way, how shitty this world is. How depraved of life it is, but _please_ , I’m _begging_ you, don’t take it out on yourself. You’re too amazing for that bullshit.”

“T-t-they t-told me to d-do it…” I swallow hard, “H-h-he told me to do it. They s-s-s-said I-I deserve it.”

“You fucking don’t, Sans!” He cries, hugging me to his body, “Those people, who tortured you for your entire life, can just die.”

I feel something wet and warm dripping on my face, and I realize Ollie is crying.

“Ollie please don’t cry,” I whine, “Please don’t cry, over me.”

“Sans,” he mummers in a hushed voice, “Let me make you feel beautiful again. Let me make love to you. Because, you’ve been through hell, and it’s about time I bring you to heaven.”

“Ollie!” I sob, lacing my arms around his neck, tangling my phalanges into his black and green locks. I bury my face back into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“Sans,” my boyfriend responds, laying me back onto the bed, all the while not letting go. He suspends above me, before declining back down to me, slipping his eyes shut, and mine follow suite. His lips peck my teeth gingerly, and I sigh into the kiss. He then pulls my hands from his thick hair, and I whimper in disapproval, but groan in content when he plants them to the side of my head and meshes our palms together, lacing his fingers with mine in a tight, loving grip, and still not breaking the kiss.

The endearment becomes sexual when he swipes his tongue across my teeth, pleading for entrance, in which I grant, parting my teeth slightly. I create my blue appendage again from magic to recommence our passionate, intimate act. Our tongues morph and wrestle against each other, not for dominance, but to find pleasure in one another. I shiver as my eyes flutter shut, the feeling of Ollie’s piercing smoothly running against the length of my marine muscle, making me moan.

“Ahhmph~” I quickly become overstimulated, becoming more than aware of the rumbling vibrations of Ollie’s groans of content in his mouth, chest, and throat; the ball of his piercing grazing on my tongue; the soft, red silk sheets rubbing below me.

Finally, after an eternity of french kissing, we part away, thin webs of saliva shimmering in the dull light of the lamp, still connecting our mouths before dissipating in the heated atmosphere.

“Uhn, Ollie~” I groan, overly aroused, my face flushing hotly.

“Yeah,” he answers-breath coming in short, hot pants- as if to agree with me.

Grabbing at the hem of his shirt, with both hands, he lifted it over his head revealing a toned, creamy torso and his tattooed arm that are toned and muscular; it makes me drool, the liquid sliding down my chin as I gaze hazily at him, and I don’t even care.

“God, you’re gorgeous, Ollie,” the words grace my lips and make him smile, cheeks turning a soft ruby. Never once have I told that to anyone, and you know what?- it actually feels kind of… good. I finally have someone I can really speak my mind to, besides Blooks.

Ollie chuckles at that, his face still a bit red, “Thanks, so are you Sans.”

He lays down at my side, and rolls me over to face him, and I quickly latch onto him as if he is a lifeline, and in turn, he nudges a knee between my thighs and hugs me close. He strokes my cheek, staring into my sockets with that magnificent gaze. “Ollie,” I mummer, pressing my mouth onto his cheek, “This… is my first time and, I don’t really know what to do so… can you be gentle and go slow for me?”

Ollie smiles, that breathtaking smile, “You must be young, how old are you Sans?”

“Um, sixteen.”

My lover is thoughtful for a second, eyes leering off into space until he answers, “You’re awfully youthful to be partying and drinking and stuff; reminds me of myself, but of course love, I wouldn’t have it any other way. And don’t worry,” he grins, “I’ll be sure to… throw you a bone.”

I laugh out loud, the unexpected pun lifting my spirits, “Heh, heh. Good one. Now, Oliver Eves… take me to the bone zone!”

My boyfriend shakes his head, but smiles anyway.

All of my confidence fleets and a strong periwinkle blush takes it’s place when I feel Ollie pulling up my jacket and shirt, and rubbing at my sternum. I whine, my sockets quivering shut when Ollie says, “You sure you want to do this, right Sans? This isn’t something you can take back when you do it.” My brow pinches together as I crack my eyes open until they are half lidded, tiny little white hearts replacing my pupils, my teeth slightly parted, allowing hot billows of breath to escape, and a luminescent blush covering my cheeks and nose, sweat rolling down the sides of my skull already, flushed and hot. I quickly nod, not trusting my voice enough to respond verbally.

“Damn, Sans,” Ollie groans, sultry, my expression arousing him, “That face you’re making… belongs in a porno.”

His ministrations on my sternum quickens, the circles harder and faster than a moment ago. There is now a buzzing in my ear sockets as the hand that is bringing me pleasure explores more outward, brushing against my sensitive rib cage, glissading over my bones that are heated with magic.

“Unh, ngh,” I ring out, and begin to pant, my tongue lolling about my chin and my facade contorting even more.

“God Sans, if you keep making those faces, I might just lose it.”

“But- hnn~ I can’t help- hah!”

My vision spins in dizzying circles when my love hooks a finger around my lowest rib and strokes back and forth, making my soul pulsate. Faster… I need more. My body begins trembling, and I feel the pooling sensation in my lower stomach and pelvis begin to build again, but gets interrupted when Ollie pulls away. I whine in distraught and disapproval, yearning for the contact to return to my bones. Ollie hushes my complaints, whispering, “More will come with time, I promise Sans.”

And with that, he sits me up and unzips my hoodie before lifting up my shirt completely, revealing my bare skeletal structure. Before my cheeks even have time to turn a deeper shade of sapphire, he pushes me down swiftly by the shoulders and begins to gnawing and licking along my cervical vertebrae, his piercing scratching against my sectioned bone, adding another layer of texture to my pleasure and I positively _gasp_.

My hands fly to his shoulders, and the tips of my fingers dig into the supple flesh and warmth, my want overcoming me. I can’t help but start rocking my hips in time with my sharp intakes of air and Ollie’s treatment, losing control of my composure.

“Huuh! Ollie~”

“Sans,” he exhales hot gusts of breath on my neck, making me keen in need, drawing his tongue up and over the ridges once more, leaving shimmering trails and me twitching in heavy euphoria, “You have such a _lovely_ bedroom voice.”

He then shifts his attention back to my rib cage and slips a hand under it and my eyes bolster to dinner plates, my body jolting in horror.

“Ollie, wait!” I cry, my hand shooting to his wrist which takes him by surprise.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns, slightly shaken by my rapid intrusion, pulling his hand away from my vice like grip, rubbing the red rings appearing in the white flesh. I mumble an apology explaining why I panicked.

“That’s where my soul is, Ollie. All humans and monsters have a soul that resides within them. It’s our main source of life and energy so if you accidentally grab it too hard, it can shatter and I would die.” I swallow dryly, my mind traveling back to the time where I was fighting Chara in the Judgment Hall, falling to my knees on the gold marble floor, my life rapidly draining, my soul sliced in half diagonally and watching the sins crawl on her back, “It’s my life source, so it’s really fragile.”

Ollie only smiles, and nods in understanding, picking me up to settle me back in his lap and embracing me, nuzzling my face affectionately, wrapping his arms around my body and filling me with love and warmth. He says, “If I promise to be gentle, will you let me touch your soul?”

Said soul begins to palpitate and beat profusely hard and fast, fluttering around at the thought of being caressed. Not even I have touched myself in such an intimate, erotic way and I flush aboundingly; this is usually something that monsters would do on their wedding night, after saying vows of love and affection before touching and or fusing each other’s souls together, in which I’ve heard to be the most pleasurable thing on planet earth. I look to Ollie for an answer, but I only see a genuine smile, with not a shred of malice to it.

“You can always say no, Sans,” he says pressing a kiss to my cheek, “Tonight, you’re the one in control.”

After a few more seconds of laying in his hold, I speak. “Ollie?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe… we can save that for another time?”

“Of course Sans.”

“But, you’ve did everything so far tonight, so can I make you feel good now?”

“Are you sure you want to Sans?”

“Yes, Ollie.”

“Then kneel on the floor, in front of the bed for me sweetheart.”

I get a giddy-butterfly feeling in my stomach from the cute pet name my boyfriend gives me, and I happily get on my knees in front of him. The thought of making Ollie feel good… fills me with determination!

I peer up at my love with curiosity and wonderment, but then it all turns to blushing, lust, and drooling when he spreads his clothed legs wide so they are on either side of me. Aquamarine blankets my whole face as I lean up higher and rest my hands on his thighs, as Ollie watches intently.

“Um… what do I do?” I’ve never seen a human here, before…

Ollie giggles and rubs my skull as I stare, innocent and confused.

“You’re just too adorable! But don’t worry, I’ll guide you through this. First, you undo my pants and pull my penis out.”

The aquamarine thickens as I do as I am told, unzipping the fly and unlacing the button of his jeans, then haphazardly hooking my phalanges underneath the fabric of denim and cotton. Taking a deep breath, I pull the hem of his clothing down by my curled fingers, and revealing his… ah.

“Wow,” I inhale sharply, staring directly at… it. There, right in front of me, is Ollie’s penis; about six-and-a-half long and quite thick, standing tall and rock solid( oh,so that’s what was grinding on me when we were on his car!). The pink tip twitches and oozes out some viscous white liquid, and I watch it slide down all the way to the base, pass the folds and bulging veins and rosy color, all gathering at two, soft looking orbs that it sits on.

“Sans…,” Ollie whines, his smile wavering, sweat running down his flushed cheeks, “d-don’t stare at it like that, sweetie. It’s embarrassing.”

“O-oh, sorry,” I say, averting my eyes from his pulsing girth.

“You can start by rubbing your hand up and down slowly, like this,” my lover instructs, his double-hued gaze casting off to the side while he strokes his length up and down, adding a twist to his wrist and drawing a finger over the slit of the head on occasion.

“Okay,” I whisper, cautiously taking it into my hand, heat filling up my cheeks as I begin to gently pump it up and down, drool drizzling from my orifice once again. I love the way it feels, so smooth and hard and hot, sporadically twitching, and sometimes trickling more of the white fluid. I glance up at Ollie, and a fire ignites in my pants; his eyebrows are pinched together in pleasure, his face flushed and sweaty, evidence from the sheen on it and the way his hair sticks to his forehead, and those hot lips, letting out a string of pants and small, infrequent noises, and those alluring brown and blue eyes, rolled back and dark with lust. I quietly groan in desire at that sinful expression, _craving_ more of that from him.

I want to taste him.

Hesitantly, when Ollie tosses his head back, his mind somewhere else, I sink down and bring my mouth to his member, my eyes fluttering shut, my teeth parting and my tongue takes a tentative lick to the head of it.

“Ahhun~! Sans~” Ollie’s pupils blow out so wide that I can no longer have the luxury of seeing that rich color. A shiver runs through his entire body, and his penis jumps, landing on my face and throbbing there. The mix of my boyfriend’s pleasure, the hot salty taste of his fluids on my tongue, and the heat of his length pulsating on my face makes my hips all but buck, and I have to stifle a moan of lust bubbling in my throat from the unexpected reaction.

“Did, you like that… Ollie?” I ask, getting a bit over confident.

“Sans, please do that again.”

And so I did, sticking out my tongue and running it along the tip, listening to my lover’s sighs, praise and content. Getting bored of just focusing on the tip, I decide to get a bit adventurous and start at the base, then glissade my appendage up the length of the girth and end at the now red peak.

“Hnn~” Ollie shivers, his length lurching against my face again and I almost melt.  
Oh god… _so good~_

I do it again, feeling my love flinch, listening to his groans and needy whines.

“Sans,” he heaves, “Take i-it...Mmh… in your mouth, hah~”

I oblige to him, opening my mandible as far as it can possible go, and begin taking his penis into my mouth, the top skimming my blunt teeth and the underside rubbing against my moist tongue.

“Sans, you’re doing great,” he praises, his hand bunching up in the sheets beneath him, making me shudder from the acclaim. I’m making Ollie feel the same way he made me feel.

This is actually turning out to be kind of nice, and pleasurable for me, despite me not being the one receiving at the moment; feeling the heat and pulsing of the length in my cavern, making me weak in the knees, the flesh rubbing up against my teeth and jerking around in my mouth every so often. I hum in deep content, sending vibrations through the extension and making Ollie call out. I keep taking it farther, wrapping my mandible around it as best as a skeleton possibly could and began bobbing my cranium up and down. I listen to him groan my name, falling apart, and that just gives me more encouragement to go down on him even faster.

“Ah Sans… you’re so amazing~” I hear Ollie say as I wrap my tongue over the weeping head of his member and grazing my teeth just below it, gingerly peeling back the extra layer of skin that covers it. My hips twitch in tantalizing ecstasy when I feel Ollie put both hands on the back of my skull, and start thrusting in and out of my cavern. I shut my eyes, pinching my brow together again and sink down further, all the way to the base and I deep-throat the phallus. I can feel it grinding against the back of my throat, making my eyes reel back in hot thrill, never feeling my face so stuffed before. I suck hard, swirling my tongue faster, the hot ‘slurping squelchy’ sounds adding to the fire that’s growing in my crotch. Ollie cries out suddenly, warning me that he is… “cumming?”

I did _not_ prepare for that sudden rush of scorching, sticky liquid that is shot into my mouth in thick strings, but that doesn’t make me pull away; instead I stay where I am, allowing Ollie’s load to envelope my whole mouth, filling it to the brim. I could become addicted to this. My head is now staggering with arousal, and I can see tiny white stars blotting my vision as that strong pleasure that was once building in my lower pelvis, is now released along with Ollie.

I would have _screamed_ if it wasn’t for all the liquid in my mouth, along with a giant girth, so I settle for a loud, sultry moan along with bucking my hips, my hand flying down to hold myself between my legs, clamping my eyes shut. My fingers press into my pubic symphysis as I ride my hand, bouncing my hips and rubbing roughly through the fabric to make my pleasure linger a bit longer with Ollie. I remove my mouth from Ollie, thinking that he was done but apparently not, for three more thick ropes of heat splatter against my face, staining me with sticky white. Not knowing what to do with my mouthful, while not wanting to be rude and spit, I swallow the load as much as I can and what I didn’t, I let dribble out and down my chin, dripping onto my sternum, and allowing my face to become totally covered.

The strings of assorted blue, clear, and white fluids that still connect my mouth to my lover’s phallus descend and land on my chin along with the others that drip from my mouth, lackadaisical and unhurried, and I bask in the afterglow. The rubbing between my legs slows to a halt, the intense euphoria ebbing and leaving behind a subtle, satisfying throb, and I pull my fingers from the area, that are now coated in languid blue fluid that resembles Ollie’s quite closely.

“Ollie,” I practically moan his name, “That was amazing too~”

“Are you sure this is your first time?” Ollie whispers, grabbing his shirt and wiping my soiled face, “You were so good.”

I grin bashfully, the marine on my face not going anywhere, “I just did my best; it was nothing.”

I was about to crawl into his lap, when I catch him staring at the floor down between my spread knees. He looks up to me with a devious smirk, leaning to me and flicking his eyes down again, biting his lip and saying, “Did something happen down there Sans? Is there something you’d like to tell me about?”

I follow his gaze down to the floor… and my face practically _glows_ in mortifying disbelief, igniting the whole room in periwinkle. Upon looking at the floor between my legs, I find a small puddle of brilliant blue staining the floor (and also the front of my pants) and the sockets of my eyes go wide and my mouth becomes slack in dread-filled awe. I become tongue tied, stammering and on the verge of tears, ashamed that I didn’t notice the wetness.

“You don’t have to be humiliated, Sans,” Ollie smiles, resting his chin on the backs of his hands his husky voice and serene eyes soothing me, “You just came is all.”

“I… I… _came?”_

“Yeah, do you know what an orgasm is?”

“I’ve heard about them, but not exactly. My friends joke about them a lot, but I don’t know what it really is.”

“An orgasm is when your body releases itself from pleasure. It’s the climax your body reaches after a certain amount of sexual stimulation.” He reaches down and rubs between my legs, making me gasp, before he pulls back, examining the fluid that gathered on his fingers. “I’m just surprised that you squirted this much from giving me head, Sans. Getting off from giving a blowjob, huh? Damn, you’re so kinky~ Especially for a virgin.” He sticks the appendages in his mouth and sucks them clean, groaning, “And your fluids are so, _so_ sweet, like sugar.”

I stuff my face into my hands in utter embarrassment, pulling a giggle from Ollie. I wonder if a skeleton can die from too much blushing, because if that were true, I would be six feet under at the beginning of this whole session!

“Don’t hide from me, honey,” my boyfriend coos to me, “There’s no reason for you to feel uncomfortable. And please, tell me if I am making you feel that way.”

I shake my head, tears beading at the corners of my sockets, “It’s not that Ollie. It… it’s just that…,” I take a breath, and glue my brow together, “It’s just that you’re so sexy, and hot, and I don’t know how to deal with that yet!”

Ollie’s eyes go wide, and he sits back on his tattooed arms, giving me a sympathetic smile, “Just when I thought you can’t get any cuter, Sans, you do.”

He picks me up by my underarms and lifts me back onto the bed, and pins me down, hovering over me again. “We can stop here if you want Sans.”

I frantically shake my head, “N-no, I want more, Ollie.”

“Then are you ready for the good part?”

“There’s an even better part?”

“Yes Sans, it gets so amazing and heavenly. You’ll cum _so_ hard~”

My hips twitch in anticipation and I sigh, “Oh, Ollie yes, please; I wanna cum~”

“Again?”

“Shut up.”

We both laugh, and then our giggles and chuckles quickly turn into moans and sighs as we indulge in our one millionth make out session of the night.

“Ollie, I love you.” I whine, bucking my hips as he pulls away taking off his unzipped pants and boxers before grabbing the base of my spine and beginning to stroke up and down, his hot, sweaty palm caressing my plates.

“Ahhun, Ollie~” I cry, my head tossing side to side on the pillow case, “Aauh, more~”

I see Ollie get a sly grin on his twisted lips and before I can tease him about what he’s up to, he slips his hand that was once on the base of my spine, up through my rib cage, and barely misses my soul and latches on rather firmly to my cervical vertebra, which gets me locked-kneed, drooling and grinning with arousal. “Ah-ahhuhn~nngh~!”

“Sans, your eyes are hearts again,” Ollie observes my reaction, “Do you like it when I do this?”

All I can do is moan in response, my crotch getting sticky again from just a simple, yet effective gesture. I can’t.

‘Oh, Ollie~’ is all that is able to go through my mind at the moment.

My lover pulls his hand from my neck, and I gasp in relief, taking a break from the intense ecstasy. I look down and watch him curiously as he tugs at the hem of my pants, looking up at me for approval. I give him a look that says, “Yes, please, continue.” And he returns with a look that replies with, “I’ll be sure to treat you like an angel.” We had developed such a lovely infatuation with each other in the night that we can now communicate between longing stares, and that makes me so happy. He curves his fingers beneath my skinny jeans after undoing them, and pulls down the fabric, and a five-inch, shimmering blue member springs to life from my pelvis and I flush the same shade of blue as it.

“I… I didn’t know I could do that,” I whimper bashfully, cupping my hot cheeks in my hands and averting my eyes from the scene beneath me.

“You’re so cute Sans,” Ollie says, completely removing my pants, leaving me totally bare and coming up to my side, making sure to rub his whole body against me while doing so,“I want so see all your other cute faces too.”

And with that, he takes my phallus gingerly in his hand and begins twisting up and down on it, crooning, “Tell me what you like, okay sweetheart?”

I nod hastily, bucking my hips into the warm touch when he rubs against the tip. “Ah! I like that Ollie~” “Do you want it faster Sans?” “Yes, please~” _*Shilck, shilck*._

The magic in the form of fluid spills from the tip and coats my boyfriend’s hand, making it an easier task for him to stroke his hand up and down my shaft. I feel him reach lower and massage my orbs, caressing the small sac of ectoflesh. Soon, my whole body is rocking back and forth into his hold, getting close to the edge, my noises getting louder by the minute. At this rate, I’m not going to last long at all- but that is when Ollie removes his soiled blue hand, much to my disfavor. I whine and pout and condemn, squirming in frustration and of not being allowed release, much to Ollie’s amusement.

“I don’t know which is cuter,” he says, eyes focusing on my writhing figure, “You squirming from pleasure or you squirming from getting flustered.”

He shuffles down to my waist, and then to my hips, only to give my weeping member a small lick, before taking the whole thing in his mouth and then bobbing his head up and down a few times and wrapping his tongue around me, making me clap my hands over my mouth and see stars, before quickly pulling back up, smiling with a sigh, whispering, “You’re so cute…”

He kisses me on the mouth and I wrap my arms loosely around his neck, kissing him back with passion and adoration.

“Sans,” he breaths, his bi-colored orbs focusing intently into mine with a soft pureness to them that catches my attention, “Do you think you can conjure an entrance for me with your magic?”

“An entrance?” I echo, my oblivious chastity in full swing right now.

“I want you to create a vagina for me, honey.”

“O-OH!” I blush hard, my brows shooting up. I thought I was going to get over all the butterflies by now but sure enough, they’re back at it again. I look down at my crotch, and at my twitching member, then looking back up to my boyfriend, complaining, “But I don’t know how, Ollie, I don’t even know how I made this.”

Ollie smiles his patient smile, holding my face and kissing me saying, “Don’t worry, Sans, I’ll guide you. I’ll show you how.” His lips brush over my mouth and I press into them, longingly, and nuzzle at his neck with the same craving.

“Okay, Ollie, I trust you.”

Ollie simply grins and moves his hands down to my knees, and spreads my legs wide. “You’re going to love this Sans,” he says, staring at the bone underneath my girth, “but you’re going to have to follow my directions.”

I shake my head up and down eagerly, hungry for what is to come next. My love takes two fingers and rubs softly along the smooth curve of the bones in my inner pelvis, and I shiver, expressing my content by moving closer to his delicate touch. He leans into my ear socket, breathing hot air on it, making my spine arch, and saying, “I’ve been with only one skeleton before, but they weren’t nearly as beautiful as you, Sans.” His ministrations change to an odd…upside-down triangular pattern somewhere between my bones and my breath hitches. “And I found out that it does depend on where, and the way I touch you here, but to make an entrance, you need to have the right mindset.”

He leans in even closer, his lips and breath gently tickling my skull, and he whispers in his most _sweetest, silkiest_ voice I’ve ever heard, “Sans, close your eyes, and imagine what I am saying.”

I automatically do as I am told, that thick, _masculine_ voice making me sigh and flutter my eyes shut. My soul becomes more and more feverish by the second but that’s nothing compared to the way his husky voice wafts through my head like a lullaby of lust. “Imagine, just between your legs, is an opening, Sans. The folds of soft silky flesh are overlapping like the petals of a flower, quivering with your arousal. Lips that are parted, pleading to me that they want to feel me rub up against them, fluttering open at the sight of me. Your clitoris; swollen and begging for my attention, enlarged with your want, your desire, your search for that sweet release, when I rub up against that bundle of nerves. Your entrance, so wet and moist that it’s practically dripping with your need, urging me to stick, something long, thick, and hard inside it. Yearning to be penetrated. And lastly, your hot, wet, and moist cavern with walls that vibrate and clamp down with each stroke of the velvety flesh. It sucks me in, it urges me to bring it that sweet release that it so desperately wants; desiring to cum harder than it has ever before.”

I hadn’t notice, but I was grasping onto Ollie’s hand _fiercely_ while he was describing to me, moaning with arousal, hearts dancing in my eyes. Everything Ollie has said, every way he rubbed and caressed my most pure place has added fuel to a new kind of fire that has been kindled inside me; I fire that I thought wasn’t even possible. I can feel magic seeping into the crevices that my love stimulates, and it gathers there, constructing and establishing a solid mound, just below my sac, that is warm, and already soaking wet. I feel the ‘lips’ flit and spread with a moist _*click*_ , and I release a breathy moan.

“Oh my god, Sans,” Ollie gasps, admiring my new sex organ, “It’s so amazing and gorgeous…”

I gaze down between my legs, past my length, and to the mound of ectoflesh. I can’t really see it that well, besides the subtle blue aura radiating from it; but I can definitely sense every single part of it- all of the pulsating, flittering segments that give off a throbbing pleasure that makes my heels dig into the sheets below me, and causes my breath escalate.

“Sans,” my boyfriend mummers to me, snapping me back to reality, “May I touch it?”

“Ah, yes…”

Ollie smiles at me before gently pecking my mouth, and leaning up before grabbing the bottle of liquid that I had long forgotten sitting on the nightstand. He flicks open the cap and squeezes some of the oils onto his fingers, making sure to lather his digits in the fluids. He then comes back to me, and begins littering kisses all over my face, telling me, “Let me know if it hurts, because it shouldn’t, okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay, Ollie,” I nod, nuzzling into his face before adding, “I love you.”

“I love you to Sans.”

Ollie reaches down, and swipes a slick finger up my slit, making me flat out scream.

“AAAAHUN!”

“You okay Sans?”

Everything feels so overly sensitive and arousing, taking me by surprise. I clap both hands over my mouth and arch my spine so hard it lifts off the bed and my eyes titubate all the way to the back of my head, two glowing white hearts.

“Ahhu~ ngh, so good~” I pant, my vision revolving in groggy circles; I can’t see straight, “Ollie- ahu~ I-I need a break~”

“We didn’t even get started Sans,” Ollie taunts lightly, “And yet you’re already so far on the edge, and so wet.”

He settles for massaging my cheeks, pinching them in his hands, while I mumble incoherent, random things, unable to articulate myself. The room is still gyrating, but slower now and I’m almost able to lock eyes with my lover.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and even though he’s being very considerate, I can tell that he desperately wants to continue, so I nod my head despite myself and he re-positions himself between me. This time, he rotates the tips of his fingers against my folds, dragging them up over a small bundle of nerves that shoot a jolt of pleasure up my spine, and my mandible slackens into a soundless wail of _tormenting ecstasy_. My hips are already rocking as Ollie touches all of my most sensitive areas, weaving in between the lips and dancing on the wet folds of my vulva. I’m grinning, drool cascading down my chin, both of my hands clenching at the pillow that’s underneath my tossing cranium, my tongue tied in knots.

‘Ollie, I need you so bad,’ I try my damnest to form coherent thoughts, as if to delay the feeling of the agonizing orgasm that’s creeping over my writhing body, ‘I want you. Where have you been all my life? Where have you been during my darkest time? It doesn’t-’ “Hnn~”- ‘m-matter anymore though, you’re here now-’ “Ahh~”- ‘What you do to me, even outside of sex, you make me happy Ollie-’ “Ohn~” - ‘Ollie… you’re driving me crazy! If only you can hear my inner monologue, I’m sure it’ll make you so happy.’

He has slid his fingers into my hot, soaking cavity and I _wail_.

_Oh, stars~_

I look up at Ollie; he was saying something but I can’t hear a damn thing as my skull is brimming with murky arousal. I feel humid all over, indulging in my luxurious bliss. Moaning and contorting, my body begins to shake and convulse and I feel my tongue loll out the side of my mouth, saliva creeping down my chin. Tears of pure euphoric pleasure gathers at the corners of my eye sockets, rolling down my flushed, sweaty cheeks.

“Ah-ahn~ O-Oll-ie~NGHH~!” I try to call out to him, see him, touch him, but all is futile; my voice is stifled from my moans and keens, my vision is blotted out by white stars again, my being too weak and weary to lift a finger and soon all my body could do, is experience the anguished paradise that Ollie is putting it through.

“Hahn~! Ol…” I gasp in the middle of my wretched statement, feeling the odd sensation build in my pelvis again. Oh, no… no please! Not again; I don’t think my bones can handle another one of those, utterly earth shattering moments that rip my sanity apart from the inside. But, unfortunately, I have no choice, so I give into the pressure that builds and builds and builds and… explodes.

That’s it. I can’t take any more. I let go…

And cum for a second time.

My first pelvic orgasm.

And oh is it so incomprehensibly … good. I climax so painfully hard I could barely remember afterwards what had happened, but _damn_ , did I without question _feel_ what had happened. My soul feels like it is doing acrobatics, lurching and jumping about inside my ribs, releasing strings of liquid magic down my spine and into my pelvis. The pressure that is released lower, is so hot and sudden- a pure rush, a pure high- that it makes my inner walls clench down _hard_ , and my phallus release my essence all over myself, even reaching up to my face and drenching it a deep blue. And all I can do is take it, my body so vulnerable and shaken, and I’m only able to twitch, jerk, and moan. Even after, my body still gives me sporadic, pleasurable spasms and constrictions inside my vagina and soul, as if trying to etch the memory of me cumming, into my very bones. I feel someone picking me up tenderly, as if I were a bird with a broken wind, and cradling me in their arms, whispering sweet nothings into my ear sockets.

They feel so warm, bringing me back down to earth, pressing their lips against me, protecting me while I recover. My face is still scrunched up from the impeccable rapture, my screwed up eyes and pressed brow tweaking every once in awhile. My mouth moves softly, as if trying to form words, but either the fuzziness in my ears haven’t dissipated yet, or my voice has worn out from all the wailing, or maybe even both.

I then feel a hand grasp around mine, lacing our fingers together and my mind immediately goes back to Mettaton’s bar, talking about Megalotropolis and sipping on brightly colored alcohol, when he entwines our fingers together for the first time, fusing our love as one…

“O… llie,” I utter softly, my breaths still trifling and shallow, my head reeling from the remains of pulsating pleasure and my eyes slowly coming back into focus and witnessing the nebulous figure hovering over me.

“Sans,” I hear a deep, soothing voice call to me, “Are you okay?”

I don’t answer-no, I _can’t_ answer, so I simply repeat the name that graces my mouth.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to make you feel good, and I only ended up hurting you.”

I feel my head roll on what seems to be their shoulder, and I lift a jaded hand pathetically, hoping to touch them. They grant my wish, and bring it to their face, where my alabaster eyes meet his fawn and azure ones… hetero chromatin eyes… and I’m instantly back in Ollie’s room, on his bed, stark naked with him and making sweet, passionate love.

He’s decorating my entire body with kisses, all the while apologizing profusely, whispers things such as “I’m so sorry,” and, “I love you,” and “I’ll never do it again.”

“Ollie?” I address him, still a bit out of it, trying to home in on his face, “What happened?”

“Sans,” my partner whimpers softly, “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to push you like that. I love you.” He leans into my face, our eyes gazing into each other, his hair falling over both our faces, blocking out the room, so it’s just us, here, and alone.

“It’s okay Ollie,” I say, craning my neck upwards to his mouth, and pecking him on the lips, “Don’t be sad.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“N-no?”

“You started crying asking me to wait, and almost passed out, Sans.”

“...”

I bring my phalanges up to brush my cheek, and I feel streaks of damp, almost dry tears. I look to Ollie’s eyes and find repentance and qualm shifting in those, big, now vapid pools. I lean up to kiss him again but he turns away, and sits up, leaving me on the bed alone and confused. “Maybe we should stop here,” he says.

“Ollie, wait, no,” I plead with him, “Please come back, I want to continue.”

But he shakes his head, and I know it’s going to be quite laborious to try and get him in the mood again. “I don’t want to end up hurting you again. I don’t want to make you cry.”

I come up behind him, wrapping my skeletal arms around him, hugging him from abaft and snuggle my cranium into the nook of his neck. “I’ve cried for worse reasons before, Ollie, much worse. What you did, was out of good intention, and your love for me. But everyone else, it was out of malice, and hate for me.”

I close into him, fully embracing his body with mine, and everything I have. “When… I was a kid, only five years old, I started my cutting. I slit my wrists and hurt myself because my father told me to, because he thought I deserved it. He said, I should punish myself, for what I did to my mother…” My mouth starts to tremble, my voice cracking under my melancholy, “I was practicing my magic… and, I hurt her, so bad, almost k-killing her.” I take a breath to regain my composure, “We tried rushing her to the emergency room, b-but since we are monsters, they wouldn’t take us, because of discrimination and racism. _*Hic*_ and-and then, my father gave me his knife two nights after she died and we had her funeral. And-d, he-he… told me that I should p-punish myself every night… I sh-sh _*hic*_ should cut myself, and ask mom for forgiveness.”

I sniff, locking onto my love even tighter for emotional support. “He beat me too, Ollie, but it was reasonable.” I pause, to let my next sentence sink in, “After all, I did take away his wife.” I lick around inside my mouth, suddenly feeling parched, “So, I took my one-year-old brother, and ran away from home. Away from my father after a year of just… taking it; being young, innocent, vulnerable, and exposed.” I fight through my tears, trying to tell my whole tale, opening up to my lover.

“I didn’t want to risk my dad taking out his anger on my little bro, P-Pap… so I ran off with him, _*sob*_ , and swore to protect him, forever.” My bones begin rattling, my feelings threatening to collapse my whole composure. “It was absolute hell, for eight long years; me and my little brother were living on the streets, eating out of trash cans, sleeping in parks, at bus stops, and on curbs, stealing just to get by, constantly getting ill. We lived in a community tool shed for a while, I t-told Papyrus to stay where he was… while I looked for food and blankets and water, just so he could live. I was starving and so, so sick for most of my life back then, and so was my brother, and one rainy night, when we both had to stay outside _*sob*_ in the cold because no one would let us into their home, I was contemplating… _*hic*_ k-killing myself and Papyrus, just so we didn’t have to undergo any more suffering. And that’s when, this rich skeleton man named Broadway, who claimed to be our uncle took us in, and cared for us; he still is.”

Ollie hasn’t made a sound for the entire duration of my story, so I conclude quickly, “And unfortunately, I’m leaving out all of the really gritty parts; what I just told you was only a segment. And I want _you, Ollie_ the first person I’ve fell in love with me to make me forget for tonight. I want you to make me feel good… and make love to me. And I want to… to do the same for you Oliver Eves.”

And we sit there, just like that; my naked body flush against Ollie, my arms snaked around him, my face in his neck, and one of his hands on mine. Abruptly he turns around in my possession, and tackles me, pressing me back to into the sheets. I absolutely _gasp_ when I feel gentle fingers slip back inside my entrance, one swiping up my clit before doing so, and my opening twinges, re-moistening itself.

He pumps me fast and hard, and I almost lose it, my head spinning again and I spread my legs wider and buck my hips forward, taking him in deeper.

“Ah-ah! _Oh!_ Ollie~” I moan, tossing my head back and upon doing so meeting my lover’s eyes. His gaze… it’s almost enough to make me cum again; those… seductive, bewitching pools that suck me in and fix me into their enticing hetero-chromatic colors. My boyfriend doesn’t even need to speak with eyes like those- they tell me everything. ‘Sans, I love you so much,’ they say, ‘I’ll make you forget, I’ll embrace you with everything I got.’

His fingers give me a few more prods before withdrawing completely, leaving a thick shimmering aqua string of my arousal.

“Sans,” Ollie whispers to me, “Did that feel good?”

“Ah, Ollie, yes~”

“Well if you think that feels good, imagine how it would feel if someone was inside you…” He trails off, looking me in the eyes, his lips brushing my mouth, “...Would you like that, Sans?”

“Oh, Oliver, yes, please. Make love to me.”

“I’ll make all your problems vanish, Sans.”

My boyfriend leans down and kisses me, but this time, it isn’t lusty or sloppy; it’s sweet, and affectionate, and doesn’t include any tongue. It is love. It is being cherish. It is _pure_. My love sits between my femurs, and begins stroking his well-endowed length just in front of my orifice.

“Are you scared?” He asks, concerned.

“Um, a little bit…” I answer, the thought of my virginity being taken making me nervous, “Will it hurt Ollie?”

“No, it shouldn’t but tell me if it does, love.”

I nod, binding my arms around his middle, feeling his breath on my neck and the tip of his member rub on my slit. I moan lightly, pinching my brows together in pleasure, my marine blush cloaking my whole face.

“Ollie, I love you.” I whine, sweat running down my cranium, my teeth parting so I can pant.

“I love you too Sans,” Ollie replied, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of rose. We kiss with affection again, our mouths tingling in tenderness. I pull him closer when I feel his own arms cradle me to return the favor as I feel a force being exerted on my lacuna, and I brace myself. I cry out in surprise when I feel the small, tight cavity giving and Ollie’s penis slipping inside. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but I did feel-

_Every._

_Single._

_Millimeter._

I can feel it stretching me apart from the inside, making me more stuffed than ever; Ollie now has my virginity. I’ve never felt so full before, not even that time I pigged out on all those cheese fries at Grillby’s coming close. The room spirals in dizzying rings again and I have to shut my eyes and cling my boyfriend in to hang on. I’m totally overwhelmed from having all of my most sensitive areas brushed at the same time by Ollie’s girth as he gently glides into my body, and keeps going until he runs into a bit of an issue.

“Why did you stop moving Ollie?” I ask, trying to push onto him but he stops me by grabbing my hips.

“Your hymen, Sans,” Ollie says, staring at me intently, asking for permission, “Do you want me to break it?”

‘Break my hymen?’ I echo him in my mind, and I begin to become anxious.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, Sans. It’ll just feel like a small pinch.”

I agree to let him penetrate me further and I’m ready to endure whatever comes my way. Ollie draws his hips back so, only the tip is inside my cavern, and he takes my hands and interlocks it with his, pinning them to the sides of my head. I look down at my ectogenitalia, my mouth quivering in fear, tears gathering at the corners of the sockets of my eyes.

“Sans, look at me,” he croons, drawing my attention to his eyes, and we latch on to each other, just as he slams back into me, and bores past my thin sheet of flesh, and into the deepest parts of me, brushing against my back wall.

“AHUH! OLLIE!” I shout in delight, throwing my cranium back, my pupils turning into white hearts, my tongue tumbling out of my mouth. My lover doesn’t need to be told twice that I’m _drowning_ in a pool of bliss right now and need him to continue, so he starts to piston his hips fast and hard into me, our bodies rocking together.

I can faintly hear the sounds of the mattress creaking under us in protest to our activity and the squelching of our organs rubbing against each other, my senses becoming more and more aware, now that there’s another feeling of building manifesting deep within me. My eyes crack open, to see Ollie staring down at me, face flushed and shimmering with sweat, pupils dilated, lips parted with want… so pretty. Our chorus of moans, whimpers and shouts elevate in the hot air, wafting around us and bouncing off the walls. My eyes roll back in my head as my drool runs back down my mouth, when I feel Ollie’s hand reach down between my legs and begins to pleasure my weeping, bouncing penis, making me succumb to the weak dizziness.

 _“Oh-Ahuh-ah! Stars~”_ I scream when my love hits a place inside of me that makes me see galaxies and colors explode before my eyes, “ _Oh- AAHUH! Ollie~! There- Uhn~_ ”

“Sans… your insides are melting,” He whispers, making me blush a deep cobalt as he angles himself inside me, and proceeds to hit my bundle of nerves over and over again; the first time he does it, I forget about my past and all my troubles, the second time he does it, I forget my own name.

My eyes are half lidded, twinkling with hearts, locking onto Ollie's, beautiful, gorgeous face. His thrusts are becoming more erratic and by now I know that we’re both teetering on the edge of orgasm once again. But there is one more thing that I want to do before this fairy tale of a night ends; I take one of our conjoined hands and coax it lower, and guided them through my rib cage to my glowing, palpitating soul.

I _wail_ when my boyfriend’s hot, damp fingers skim along the surface of my soul and I dig my phalanges into his other hand. I try to hang on and endure the ravishing of my body for as long as possible but, it proves to be futile; with my soaking, sticky cavern being thrust into, my member being stroked, _and_ my soul being massaged? I can’t. I might actually pass out this time, having my third climax, but I don’t mind, I might actually- oh… I look up into Ollie’s icy blue, and chocolate brown eyes, and that’s what does it for me.

“Ahh, uhnn...oh...ooh...Ah..Ha… AH! AHH~ _I’M CUMMING~!_ ” I scream, my whole body hitting that arousing peak and making my world stop, and shouting Ollie’s name. Oh, _god_ is it sweet! I moan through my climax, spreading my legs as far as they could go and grinning like some maniac idiot from totally losing my mind to blissful ecstasy. My partner, while still caressing my soul, reaches down from my penis to my clit, and rubs slow, yet forceful circles into it, making me keen, and fall into another orgasm from the over stimulation. I clench down on him, and in turn, tear his own release from him. He cries my name, and I moan when he ejaculates inside of me, hot, sticky fluid filling me to the brim. He gingerly releases my soul and I whine, warm juices running down my spine and settling inside my pelvis.

I feel as I am floating through space, my head still whirling, my mouth still letting moans tumble out from the lazy contractions of my post-orgasms, my whole body throbbing as my toes curl and twitch with the intense feelings, multiple climaxes, and emotions as I fall into my swoon.

My soul is practically humming with magic inside my chest, glowing in sweet content as I ride out my high. Ollie wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him and I tighten my grip to comply. My respiration slows down and returns to normal while my lover starts to pull out, before I stop him.

“O-Ollie, wait,” I say, coaxing him back inside, “I want to stay this way. Don’t leave my body just yet.”

Ollie beams and nods in understanding, and flips us so I’m resting on top of his broad torso, his penis still nestled inside me, but now softening. He pulls the comforter up over us, and I rest my chin on his sternum.

“Ollie, that was amazing, I love you so much” I mutter to him, still on cloud nine, “Thank you so much for being my first. Thank you so much for loving me.”

“Sans,” he says kissing me and staring straight into my ivory gaze, “I’m so glad to be your first.”

I sigh and close my eyes, letting myself drift off into sleep, but not before feeling Ollie pull the covers even farther over the two of us, and settling down into a comfortable position, and telling me he loves me.

***

I begin to stir, becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. There are beams of light streaming through the window and something soft and warm rubbing up against me. I crack my eyes open to view what is crawling on me; … cats. One black-and-white and the other calico striped. For a second I am puzzled, forgetting where I am. I glance around the room and all of my fleeting thoughts come running back to me. Oh; I am in Ollie’s bead, with his cats Tiger and Oreo squirming against me. I am also totally naked from my hellacious night of fun. Just your average, typical Tuesday. (It’s not Tuesday, I'm being sarcastic).

I sit up, disturbing Tiger and Oreo, making them sprint out of the room. I rub the back of my skull, noticing that Ollie isn’t next to me, but my clothes all folded in a neat, clean pile are. I smile, getting out of the bed and standing up and-

“Ugh!” I wince hard, my pelvis sore and achy as _fuck!_ Well, that’s what I get for cumming four times. Maybe we should take it slower next time.

I throw on my clothes while trying to avoid making the raw throbbing in my hips any worse; I’ll shower when I get home as well. I stretch, extending my arms into the air and obnoxiously cracking my back-ooh, that feels nice- before pulling my smart phone from the left pocket of my hoodie, checking the time, battery, and messages. Thirty-two text messages and fourteen missed calls just this morning, wha?-oh. They’re all from Papyrus, who’s worried sick about his poor, older brother and where he is. I chuckle. God bless his soul, but damn, could he be irritating at times. I walk through the hall, to the living room, and turn my head to look out the window to…

… Only to have my soul metaphorically drop to my feet, and dread to wrap its hands over my body in an ice cold coffin, _pure, raw horror_ stretching my eye sockets wide at the scene that displays itself before me.

 

-Chapter End-


	3. Heartbreak Three: Razor Blades and Rooftops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that this story is doing pretty well so far! But if you have any suggestions or advice or criticism for this story, you can always leave a comment and stuff like that. I like to know how I can approve the quality of my story telling, or how I could make it more interesting. As a heads up, this chapter has self-harm in it so if that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this chapter or read something else!

What in the actual fucking hell?

My soul sinks in mortifying, frigid terror, my being becomes weak for all the wrong reasons, for the person of my dreams and wants and fantasies, who just made hot, passionate love to me last night- hell, mere hours ago- is making out with some, fucking girl that I don’t recognize; pressing up against her with such desire, such want, the same intensity that he gave me last night.

He tangles his slender, long fingers in fiery red locks; my heart shatters.

She flutters her eyes shut at the pierced tongue- my pierced tongue- that slips inside her mouth; I’m filled with spite and green with envy.

He slips a hand up her shirt; and my magical eye glows in menace.

I watch his lips as they pull apart, reading his mouth, and he says those three- once special, now meaningless- words to her; and I’m filled with brimming with animosity and fury.

He waves her good riddance, kissing her before she drives away in her car. I feel sick as I step away from the window swiftly. I shove my hands into my pockets, walking to the door to get the hell out of here, but just as I did, Ollie walks in and beams at me and I grimace harshly.

“Oh, look who’s finally up~” He giggles, caressing my face in his hands, leaning in to kiss me, smiling, “Well, good morning, lazybones-”

_“Get the fuck out of my face.”_

He stares at me with his blank look of surprise, his two different colored eyes- that I once adored and now despise- go wide. He pulls away from me, innocently cocking his head to the side, “What?”

“Don’t you fucking _‘what’_ me!” I borderline yell, making Ollie flinch back, “Who do you think you are, sleeping with me, then making out with some girl?”

“Sans,” he simply mummers, rubbing my shoulders, “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

I begin bristling with rage, angry tears rolling down my face, “Don’t give me that _bullshit!_ I just saw you kissing some redhead girl!”

Even though the look on his face is still stoic, I can see a trace of dread, the color draining from his flesh, leaving him a pasty white.

“She’s just a friend.” 

“Just a friend? _Wow!_ You two are awful touchy, to be just friends! Besides, you told her that you loved her, didn’t you… ?”

I stand there together, staring at the floor in an uncomfortably eerie silence, our words sinking into each other’s minds.

“Oliver,” I cut through the quiet atmosphere with my quivering voice, “How many… other people do you have in your bed besides me?”

“That’s none of your business, Sans. Besides, I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you. Don’t get too mad.”

“Don’t get too mad? Ollie, we just had sex, we just confessed our love, and you go behind my back the very next morning? I mean are you kidding me? How can you be so insensitive to me?”

Ollie simply stares at me, with that stupid, idiot, dumb-ass, bored expression that makes me want to punch him in the face. The type of expression that I’d never thought he wear while confronting me; the type of expression that breaks our relationship, our love, our… trust.

He starts digging around in one of his pockets, before pulling out a box of cigarettes that’s half empty and a lighter. He nonchalantly puts the cancer stick up to his pursed lips and flicks the lighter, lighting the fag and taking a long drag, billowing out smoke while leaning against the wall besides us.

“Sans, baby look,” he begins to explain, “I really fucked up with you last night, and I would like to apologize for that, first off.”

He takes another long breath of the cubeb, clearing his throat, “But I’m not the person you’re looking for. I can tell that you’re looking for love, for someone to spend the rest of your life with. But I can tell you, I’m not that person.”

“But… Ollie,” I whisper, barely audible over the singing birds outside, “I-I love you…”

Ollie shakes his head, “No, you don’t Sans; you think you do but you actually don’t. There’s no such thing as ‘love at first sight’ or, love on the first date or anything. It’s just the bullshit people tell you to get your hopes up. There’s only feelings of lust, and desire, and the wanting of sex on first dates, and nothing else. Love is fleeting, but lust stays forever.”

“But Ollie!” I cry, tears spilling down my cheeks, feelings inside me battling, “We… I, *hic* … I’ve just confessed to you, I’ve let you make love to me, I’ve shown you my scars, my pain, my misery, I’ve told you my story….You… touched my soul… ”

“Yeah, I know, Sans. I know.”

“B-but *hic* I thought you really cared Ollie, *hic*, I-I-I thought you really c-cared!”

I stuff my face into my hands, and brawl my eyes out, and Ollie just stands there, smoking, not coming to my rescue, just watching my vulnerable body being tormented.

“I did really care Sans. I did love you. Loved you. I loved you last night, but now, last night is gone forever, and things are just going back to the way they were, okay?”

“B-but why? _*Hic*_ why did y-you even w-want to be with me, even th-though you don’t love me?”

“Sans,” Ollie stands in front of me before getting down on one knee, “I don't- … the reason why I… slept with you, and told you all of those things to make you happy, is because… I wanted to get you into bed. That’s the only reason.”

“No! _*Hic*!_ You’re l-lying! Y-you wouldn’t d-do something so horrible! Y-you’re Ollie! You’re suppose to be the-the love of my life! And I’m suppose to be the love of your life too!”

Ollie shakes his head and inhales another waft of smoke, “Sans, I’m sorry but you’re not the love of my life. Do you know why I’m friends with Mettaton?”

I don’t answer, I don’t want to answer, because then I’ll know the truth, but I’m about to learn it anyway.

“Well, it’s not because I like him- hell, I hate the fucking faggot, but I go to his parties so I can give him money, and he finds people that I can sleep with. That’s it.”

I feel like vomiting, metaphorical bile rising inside my throat. I take a deep breath; I can’t always cry, I have to be strong at times like these, so I retort, “So basically you’re a slut.”

Ollie clicks his tongue indignantly, and I catch a glimpse of the silver piece of jewelry that’s nestled inside it. He takes a quick puff of the cigarette and pulls it quickly away from his lips and growls, “Isn’t that a little crass of you? Kink shaming me like that. Not to mention you’re the one who fucked a stranger as your first time. And you’ve apparently got an asphyxiation fetish as well.”

I bunch up my fists into tight knots my fury boiling and my temper shortening at the comment and the roll of blue and brown eyes. “You fucked a stranger too,” I say, letting my sarcasm run wild once again- no one can out-insult me, bitch, “And according to your logic, you are the one fucking strangers all the time! Not to mention totally disregarding my feelings, and love for you! Not that that’s important though!”

“Tch, little teenage emo brat,” Ollie peeves, “Look, I gave you what you wanted okay, love and caressing, and sweet little kisses; aren’t you happy, you over privileged stick-up-my-ass!”

“Over privileged, oh! That’s rich! Who was the one living on the street for eight years again, sweetheart? What, wanting love after being abused is over privileged? Yeah, okay, gee, thanks!”

I didn’t notice my breathing had escalated, and I my mouth is twisted into a vexed grin, my hands trembling. I take a few deep breaths, and so does Ollie, and for the first time, I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the frown lines around his creamy face as he takes more drags; I can tell something's been bothering him long before my arrival. Even though he’s cheating on me with god knows how many other people, my heart still aches to have him.

“Ollie, what’s been bothering you? You look tired.”

“You mean besides you?”

“Don’t be a dick, I’m trying to be nice right now. I’ve calmed down so don’t get me riled up again.”

“Of course I’m tired Sans; I stayed up till four in the morning, making you cum last night.”

Hot blue solidifies on my cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and agitation, the blush flaring up on my face, liquid teal pricking at the corners of my eyes. “That was mean.”

“...”

“Ollie, I’m in love with you, how can you just throw me away after using me for a night, as if I am nothing to you?” I reach out to him, one hand over my soul and the other on his cheek, “Please Oliver Eves. Let me show you how to love someone, instead of lusting after them. Please show me how much you care! I thought you were my boyfriend!”

Ollie fawn and ocean eyes roam my face, sympathetic and dull, then finally turning away. “Sans hon, I’ve never said I was your boyfriend and I never will; I don't date. I’m sorry, but people don’t change. We’re looking for two entirely different things; you want a soulmate, but I want sex partners, two polar opposites. I don’t go out with people, I have sex with them and that’s it. It’ll never work out.”

“Ollie, let’s try together, we can make this work- I- *sniff* I’ve shown you all of my most intimate, most special places I keep close to me, locked inside me. I can’t just let you get away like that.”

“... I’m sorry, Sans.”

“I’m sorry too, Ollie.”

Me and Ollie both stand there, looking at anything except each other, taking extra care to avoid eye contact. I finally make the decision to break off this thick awkwardness, this grueling silence by pulling up my hood, and saying, “I’m going home.”

“Let me drive you,” Ollie offers but I’m already halfway out the door.

“No,” I mutter, “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

*SLAM*

 

***

 

Hot water rushes all over me as I sit in my shower, head bowed, my bones being warmed up- but I still feel so… cold inside, as if the heat can’t penetrate all the way through like it usually does. It’s probably all in my mind, but it still makes me shiver, the same way that rain beat down on my and my brother on that fateful day. I look at my wrists; new, fresh splits and lacerations riddle all up and down my radii and ulnae, beads of red collecting in the crevices of my bone. It had been exactly ninety-nine days since I’ve cut myself, and tomorrow would have been one hundred. I sigh, rolling my head back on my shoulders.

Ninety-nine days since I’ve promised Blooky that I’d stop the cutting and purging. But, now, it has reverted back to zero, I have reverted back to the worthless nothing that I truly am. And it doesn’t help that I can feel, and see Ollie’s cum washing away from my pelvis and running towards the drain, making my stomach do a flip with strange emotions, somewhere between arousal and disgust. I'm so gross.

“Heh,” I chuckle under my breath, venom dripping on my words, “I guess you’re right about that Ollie; people really don’t change.”

I turn the shower off, and step out, looking over my fresh wounds and shiver, thinking, ‘It’s not enough.’

I can’t purge anymore, there’s nothing left to throw up, but I grab my razor blades again and position them over my wrists this time; please, take me away… please, bring me relief.

_*Schick* *Schick*_

Yes, that’s good- I don’t care what you say about “not taking it out on myself”, Ollie,- you probably didn’t mean it anyway, bitch.

 _*Schick* *Shi-_ “Ah, _OW!”_

I’ve just hit a nerve- again- making tears run down my cheeks, and I grasp my wrist, grinning, blood dripping on the floor, making dark ruby dots that stand out on white tiles. I need it~

Suddenly, banging booms on the locked wooden door, making me jump and drop my blade in surprise.

“SANS!” My little brother yells from outside the small room, “Hurry up and get out here, lazybones! We need a chat.”

I chuckle, but it is incredibly forced, as if I’m trying to cough something up, “Alright bro, I’ll be out in a second!”

I quickly rinse my wrists and throw on my hoodie, splashing my face with ice cold water before looking up into the mirror- hollow, baggy eyes that are filled to the brim with pain, a smile that’s so fake, so mask like, that it makes me sick all over again and I have to resist the urge to cry. Why? Why did I have to be so reckless last night? Why didn’t I listen to that little nagging voice in the back of my head, telling me that it’s not worth it? That I’ll probably end up getting hurt, like I always do?

I hate myself.

“Sans! Are you okay in there, brother?” Papyrus (bless his sweet, sweet, innocent soul) asks through the door, a much quieter than the last outburst. He knows somethings up, and it’s my job to make sure that he never figures out. It’s my job to make sure he’s always oblivious, and childlike in nature, and never suffers ever again, like those eight years.

“Yeah, just a second,” I respond quickly reassuring him- and myself- that I’m okay (But we all know the truth to that, don’t we?).

I quickly slip on a pair of baggy gym shorts and open the door, being sure to hide my razors under the sink before I did so. I greet my brother with a big, wide, toothy grin, the kind of grin you use as a mask to trick people with.

“What’s up, bro?” I say.

“You know ‘what’s up,’ brother!” Papyrus says incredulously, tapping his foot in impatience, “What’s with missing all of my texts and calls? I’m worried sick about you!”

I chuckle again and shrug. “Yeah sorry Paps, I was busy, hanging out with friends. It won’t happen again, okay?”

“It better not!” He nods in agreement, and adds, “Now come in the kitchen, I’ve warmed up your leftover spaghetti.”

Shit.

 

***

 

“How was the party Sans?” The orange flame asks me in his deep, soothing voice.

I pause, and stop clearing my table, turning to Grillby. “Oh, ah, it was cool.”

“That’s good,” he says, tending to the full bar, “Didn’t get into too much trouble, right? Not doing anything… too _‘interesting?”’_

I freeze, my eyes going wide, and I whip my head around to him in terror; he can’t know… can he?

“Haha,” the pyromancer chuckles, shaking his head, “Oh, Sans, it’s just a joke. Unless if there’s something I should know?”

I laugh nervously. “Oh, heh, heh, that’s a good one Grillbs; you really got me going there!” As soon as I finish clearing all the plates, glasses, and silverware, I take my tray to the back and then run into the restroom, getting a weird look from Grillby, one of his eyebrows arching in question.

I’m nearly hyperventilating, leaning up against the the stall door, both of my arms outstretched, feeling nauseous. No one can know right? I was in his house when we did it! Sweat pours down my face as I step over to the mirror, adjusting my dress shirt, and slacks (that are a bit too big, but was all I could find), splashing chilly water into my face, trying to relax, trying to get a grip.

I take a deep breath, and count from one to ten, just like my therapist had told me that while ago. I definitely feel better, until I hear a light knock on the door outside.

“Are you alright Sans?” Grillby asks me through the door, “May I come in?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say quickly- a little too quickly.

The orange fire steps inside, slightly pushing up his glasses, “Are you sure you’re alright Sans? You seem out of it.”

“Ah, um n-no, I’m fine, heh heh!” (Wow. That’s convincing).

“Sans, would you like to take the day off? Calm down a little?”

I smile and shake my head, “I can’t do that, boss! I’ve just took a day to go to the party. I can’t do two in a row.”

“... Sans, I trust you, but I don’t trust that smile you’re wearing.”

Grillby has a way of catching my attention, and that statement indeed does and sends chills through my body, but before I have time to reply, the pyromancer just shrugs, shakes his flaming head, and walks out the door, leaving me alone, and I instantly fall to my knees in despair, putting my face in my hands. I always screw everything up.

“Shit… shit…”

Suddenly, some customer opens the door; an overweight man in his forties already sweating from the effort of moving too much. He breaths heavily, eyeing me seriously with cloudy blue irises. “Hey”, he gurgles, intention in his deep, throaty voice.

“Yes?” I whine, still emotional with grief, tears running down my face.

“Do you work here?”

I nod rubbing the side of my arm, my body shaking in sadness, a total mess.

“Can I order a large Coke, a double cheeseburger, and a strawberry milkshake?”

My jaw goes slack, and my eyebrows pinch together in exasperated astonishment as my head cocks to the side, totally irked.

Motherfucker, _really?_

But nevertheless, still on the floor, I get out my notepad and pen from my back pocket and scribble down his order, adding sarcastically, “Would you like some fries with that shake, sir?”

 

***

 

I am now finishing up my last table, collecting my twenty dollar tip, and taking a seat at the bar, loosening my belt, unbuttoning my shirt a bit, and taking a deep breath, drumming my fingers on the bar top. The bar… my memories start to flood back, and I’m now sitting with Ollie, sucking down lava lamp-looking drinks and talking about our favorite things, laughing the night away and holding hands. I sigh-we even had the same phone case…-and rest my face in my hands, pinching my brow together in a frown.

He treated me like an angel during the night, and his worst enemy during the morning; it’s not fair.

“Sans, talk to me,” a voice, settling in next to me pleads. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“I can’t,” I whisper, moving my hands to my lap and began pulling at my sleeves in nervous anxiety. “I just can’t.”

“Why not Sans?” I feel a warm, gloved hand rub circles into my back, slightly soothing me.

“Because you’ll be disappointed in me…” I trail off, tears welling up into my eye sockets, “You’ll hate me.”

“Sans,” Grillby says, turning to completely face me in his position on the bar stool, “There’s nothing you can say, or do, that will make me hate you. What are you hiding from me? Don’t you trust me?”

 

“I trust you, it’s just…” I wipe my tears away with a sleeve, “I’m… so ashamed of myself Grillby.”

Grillby doesn’t answer for a few moments, but still massages my back, allowing some quietness to linger between us until murmuring, “Sans, go home and get some rest. You have my phone number, call me at any time you need me.”

“Okay,” I whisper, barely audible, unexpectedly feeling a craving for my warm, soft bed. So I scoot off the bar stool, grab my jacket, and walk out the door, leaving the pyromancer alone to lock up.

 

***

 

It’s two in the morning, and I can’t sleep. I lay on my side, in my bed, washed in the moonlight streaming from my window. My snowy irises wander over my new cuts on my wrists, the deep maroon vivid and striking against my ivory bones. I found that over the years, depression is kind of like a fur coat; it’s made of dead things but… it keeps me warm. My razors… keep me warm, and bring me alleviation. So I keep going; wounding and making incisions in my wrists, sighing in content before jerking in pain. Please forgive me Blooky. I’m sorry I went back on our promise. After finishing my cutting fit, I hide the razors under my bed, where no one could find them. I get out of bed, and wonder to the bathroom to wash my cuts, opening the door and running cold water from the sink on my arms and wrists.

“Sans?” I suddenly hear a soft voice from behind me, making me jump. I whip around and find Papyrus standing in the doorway with his teddy bear, rubbing his eyes.

“A-ah, yes?” I answer, my voice shaking a bit.

“I had a bad dream,” he sniffs.

“Okay, I’ll be there in just a second Pap.”

He looks to my arms in the sink and asks, “what are you doing?”

“N-nothing, Pap, I’m fine. Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a second okay?”

“Okay, Sans,” he agrees, shuffling back to his room.

I sigh, and finish rinsing the blood from my wrists and drying them with a towel, pulling my sleeves down and gently closing the door, making my way to Papyrus’ room. I see him laying on his bed with the lamp on, arms wrapped tightly around his teddy bear.

“What was your dream about, Pap?” I inquire, taking a seat next to him on his bed, “was it scary?”

My little brother nods, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, “It was about you Sans. The way you used to hurt yourself.”

Oh.

My arms fidget in guilt in my sleeves at his words, my brows pinching together in self-condemnation, but yet, I put on a happy face to give him a blanket of reassurance. “Don’t worry, Pap,” I smile, “You know I don’t do that anymore, right?” My whole body feels numb.

I take one of his hands and lace my fingers with his, and he grins warmly, “Thanks Sans.”

“That was in the past, and I promised that I’d never do it again, right? And I keep promises, right?”

“Yes, you do Sans.”

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?”

“Could you?”

“Of course.”

I climb into the roomy bed and pull the switch on the lamp and drown the room in darkness before resting my skull on one of Papyrus’ pillows, my cuts burning in remorseful stigma when I lie to my own brother; the only person in the world who been through the same hell as me, living on the streets, getting nasty looks, eating out of garbage cans and getting sick; the only person I can truly trust completely, the same blood running through us. ‘Too bad he can’t trust you back, you disappointment,’ a small voice in the back of my head shames me, and I softly whimper at that.

“Goodnight, Sans.”

“G’night, Paps.”

 

***

 

I lay on my bed, staring at my phone with a blank, uninterested expression boring into the screen, my knees swaying leisurely back and forth without a care in the world. I stare at Grillby’s number on the screen, and wonder if I have the guts to tell him every single thing about Friday night; the party, the drinking, my date, his car, the fight, the… sex…? I blush hard, the deep cobalt flooding in my cheeks at the absolute thought of telling someone like Grillby that I was a total whore and had jumped straight into sex with a guy I’d only known for a night. Would he get mad? Would he fire me(heh… fire me, get it)? Or even worse- would he tell Uncle Broadway? I would sure as hell die if anyone found out, especially my caretaker, and if rumors get around at school… No, I can’t.

I sigh, and exit the screen, deciding to keep my secret to myself, well, at least for now I will. I turn over in my bed to face my window, raindrops littering the glass and twinkling with the grey outside. God, I’m so bored! Papyrus has a field trip and this is one of my days off, so I’m left with nothing to do. I would go hang out with Blooky or something, but I don’t want him asking about Ollie- *cough*- I mean, _fuckface_. And the same goes for my other friends as well; I would drop by Muffet’s place but I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her sad face (even though I’m going to have to see it on Monday).

You know what? Maybe I’ll just grab my headphones and take a walk outside, just to clear my head and take my mind off of my emotionally distressed life right now. I can’t just be laying around on the bed, feeling sorry for myself! I throw on a clean hoodie, while leaving on my bottoms, and slip on a pair of shoes. I pull up my hood, and place my headphones on top of it- it’s kind of awkward, but since I don’t have ears, only sockets, I have to give up something. I plug the cord into my phone and play my music(The Neighborhood, if you must know) and walked out the door, feeling rain drizzle on my face, and shoving my hands into my pockets. This is nice.

I stroll down the opposite way of where I usually go, trying to change it up a bit by taking the route downtown. It doesn’t take me long to get there, and I glance around my urban surroundings, not caring the looks I got from humans, and the slightly unfriendly pointing I got from their children. I can’t hear their rude remarks over my music, so that at least helps me cope with the crowds. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be human; the lack of strange looks, the higher privileges, the ability to just walk into a store, or get on a train without having people pull their children farther away from you, as if you were going to hurt them. I walk farther down the street and wait for the stoplight to change while getting a good look at the establishments and… I’m now noticing something that I never really had before. Everything is just so… sexual in the most underhanded way I’ve ever seen, and now, since I had sex, I’m seeing the world in a new, darker light, and it’s scary. Some might say that I’m overreacting at some of the _‘questionable’_ advertisements but I swear, they all have to do with some type of innuendo.

When I pass a grocery store, I see an advertisement for popsicles; a curly red haired lady with her mouth open, pulling the reddish pink dessert away from candied red lips, a rather lusty look in her green eyes. I have an extra layer of scorn for this poster since the girl reminded me of the lady fuckface was making out with yesterday morning. I advert my eyes from the ad in the window, a light blue blush settling on my cheeks from the obvious underlying themes.

I then come to another corner, with a man reading a magazine with a picture of alcohol, but is actually referring to the woman’s breasts that are settled on top of the beers, and I grimaced (Yeah, nice cans indeed, you creep).

All around me, constantly; sex, sex, and more sex, and I’m beginning to feel physically ill. The way everyone is dressed, showing off as much as they can, what the ads portray; human women as thin and unhealthy as twigs, men disgustingly muscular to the point where you can’t achieve it without using steroids, all of the innuendo in the advertisements of cars, alcohol, food, technology, music, movies, TV shows… I’m seriously going to throw up. I thought sex was suppose to be a romantic and intimate thing, something that you keep to yourself, something that is beautiful and special and kindled from a relationship. Not this, shameless, vile portrayal of nothing but lust. And because of all this, I’ll never have sex again, I’ll never be touched like that again, I’ll never be apart of this type of community, ever again.

 

***

 

“Hey, Sans!” Blooky waves to me, back in his mechanical body.

“Hey!” I wave back, even though I want to disappear right now.

“So, how did your date go, player?” Undyne simpers, “Didja get laid?”

“No,” I respond, making the lie sound as casual and as natural as I possibly could, heat rising to my cheeks. Hopefully it won’t give it away.

“Ah, that blows,” Undyne groans, and my cheeks turn a darker blue at the word “blow”.

“Oh, Sans?” Alphys hooks my attention, “W-we have a surprise for you.”

“Huh what is it?” I’m genuinely full surprise right now. What would make today so special for me?

Napstablook takes out a nicely sized box that has decorative wrapping all over it.

“Guys, it’s not my birthday,” I giggle, “What’s with all the festivities?”

“Oh,it’s way more special than your birthday, Sans, just take a look!”

Wow, thanks.

“Undyne, be nice,” Alphys says, tone hushed, placing a gentle kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek.

“Congratulations, Sans!” Blooks, says taking out a lighter and opening the box revealing… a cake with big ‘100’ candles on it and my soul plummets. Oh. “Exactly yesterday, it’s been one hundred days since you have done self harm! I’m so happy.”

“Aw, Blooky, guys; you shouldn’t have!”

No, really, you shouldn’t have, Napstablook, because I’ve been cutting up a storm this entire weekend. Right now I could throw up in complete and utter guilt, my metaphorical stomach doing nauseating flips and icy cold claws grabbing at my heart. I can feel my sins crawling up my spine.

Blooky lights the candles, and pushes the cake over to my side of the table, praising, “Sans… I’m so proud of you,” tears well up in his eyes and my soul sinks down, “I’m so happy right now that you’ve came so far, that you’ve overcome your vicious cycle of bad habits. You couldn’t have made me any more pleased, Sans.”

“Great j-job, Sans! Keep up the good work!” Alphys says, patting my back.

“Keep goin’ man, you’re doing great!” Undyne shoves her elbow into my arm and I flinch in pain, but smile weakly and rub at the throbbing, stinging burn.

“Thanks, guys,” I reply, blowing out the candles, “thanks for supporting me.”

I do not deserve this, I do not deserve their kindness, their trust, their friendship…

Blooky all hands us plastic forks and we all begin to chow down on the dessert, not even bothering cutting it; strawberry cake with whipped cream frosting, my favorite.

“Blooks, this is awesome,” I grin, my soul being lifted a bit, but not much, “I’m so happy right now.”

“We all made it, Sans,” he smiles back, “Just for you.”

I recoil slightly at the feeling of burning on my wrists and arms; I know that it doesn’t hurt in reality, that the sting is only in my head and derives from paranoia, guilt, and shame, but still…

“Hey guys, I’ll be right back,” I say, heading off to the restroom.

“Oh? Okay.” Alphys stares after me, and I know that they’re all curious. I know that this isn’t something I normally do, but I’m seriously gonna puke right now.

I walk hastily through the halls and turn heel, running straight to the men’s bathroom, and opening the stall farthest from the door, not even caring to shut the door before leaning over the toilet seat and breathing hard. My eyes water and I sob, gagging and feeling something rise in the back of my throat. I screw my eyes shut and cry out, vomiting into the bowl, my body convulsing. I coughed up a bit more of the sludge before pulling back, sniffling and flushing the toilet. I stood up, still staring at the floor when I feel someone tapping my shoulder.

“Ah u-um are you o-okay?” He asks in a quivering, small voice.

I turn around, wiping my mouth, my throat still burning from regurgitation. The small, human boy backs up against a sink, sweat pouring down his chubby round face.

“Oh, god!” He wails, round green eyes going wide, “Y-y-you’re one of those _freaks!”_

My metaphorical heart gets speared and stabbed, my shoulders slouching. I gently step towards him, hand outstretched, trying to give my best, most gentle smile, whispering, “Hey now, you don't have to get scared, I-”

 _“STAY AWAY!”_ He screams, clutching at his binder, cowering back into the corner.

“Shh, hush, you don't have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”

I place my skeletal hand over his shoulder and wink at him, giving my friendliest, most docile smile, “There, see, I won’t hurt you, not ev-”

The boy shudders in pure horror, tears and snot streaming down his face and he looks down, mortified at the ground. I frown and follow his gaze and… oh shit; I just made him pee himself. The boy looks back up to me, hiding his now wet crotch behind his binder. He inhales sharply and smacks my hand away, grimacing, “Look what you did, you monster!”

I back off, sweat sliding down my skull, and I put my hands up in apology and defeat, “Look, I’m sorry, I just don't want you to be scar-”

 _“SHUT UP! You’re just a freak, a weirdo!”_ He starts crying even harder, running out the door, “Nobody wants you here, you creep!”

I let out a long, upset sigh and walk out the door, a vile, bitter taste being left in my mouth that’s not just from throwing up. I look around and the boy is nowhere to be in sight, and I shove my hands into my pockets, leaning up against the lockers. ‘How cruel can this world get?’ I look up the hallway, back towards the lunchroom; I don't want to go back, I just want to be alone right now. I pull up my hood, putting my hands back into my blue jacket, walking the opposite way of the cafeteria, tears pooling in my eyes and falling to the floor.

 

***

 

I lay on the roof of my school, my arms folded behind my head, legs crossed, eyes closed and music on. I’m all alone, on the rooftop, with no one here to hurt me anymore, with no one here to make me feel guilty. No bullies, no crappy teachers, no more of Muffet’s sad face, no more of Mettaton’s peer pressure, no more of _fuckface’s_ empty promises of love, no more overbearing, smothering sexual innuendos. Just me, and only me, in my world; nobody else. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe… I should continue life by myself this way with no friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, siblings, mothers, fathers, family, husbands, wives. Just me. Just me.

The thought seems to glide with the single gust of wind that billows across the sky, carrying on the breeze, letting the world know how Comic Sans Calibri has given up on it, and it should be ashamed of the way it treated me.

I can feel myself dozing off, my eyes closing off the blue of the sky, the shining sun, and the puffy white clouds. It doesn’t matter, I don't feel like going to class anyway. I don't hear the footsteps coming towards me, and then stopping. I feel the sun being blocked out from me with a looming shadow. I crack open an eye socket to see Grillby standing over me, and I’m taken aback; he’s wearing denim jeans, a white apron, a green plaid shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dull brown combat boots. He also dawns a pair of black sunglasses, and his hair is slicked up in a somewhat Mohawk-like fashion… he looks so young as if he could be my age. This look instantly takes my mind to the time where I’ve first met him on the streets, my and my brother a starving, filthy mess.

“Grillby!” I gasp, taking off my headphones off and sitting up on my elbows, “What are you doing here? I thought you had work.”

The said pyromancer squats down, his hands hanging nonchalantly between his legs. “I’m so worried about you over the weekend Sans, I just couldn’t stand it” he says tilting his head to the side, “So I closed up shop early and came to pick you up from school. Don't worry, I got permission from your school and uncle to come with me.”

“How did you know I was up here?”

Grillby smirks, “I know you Sans, of course you’d pick the roof to be your escape, because I know I would.”

He helps me up, his hands overly hot as always, and I’m on my feet. I stare at him a bit longer, before wondering, “Why are you dressed like that?”

“To show you something important.”

I give him a strange look, but he takes me by the hand and asks, “Can you teleport us to the ground?”

I nod and close my eyes, blue swarming around us and we are suddenly on the ground, walking away from the school. I am working on putting out the fire in my magic left _EYE,_ and pushing my hands in my pockets when Grillby says, “I’ll never know how you do that, Sans.”

I chuckle, “That’s my little secret.” We walk through the parking lot, coming up upon a used but well kept motorcycle in which Grillby swings a leg over.

“Hop on,” he beckons over by tapping the back and I blush, hugging my sides. I shake my head uncertainly.

“I don't know,” I say, “Isn’t that kind of-”

“Gay?” The flame finishes my sentence, laughing, “Only if you make it out to be.”

I shrug awkwardly, my cobalt blanket thickening on my cheeks as I climb up on the bike, my height interfering with my objectives again. The tempo of the beating in my soul quickens as I wrap my arms around Grillby’s middle and lean my head into his back, his heat warming me up and I begin to feel sleepy again.

 

***

 

We’re back in his bar, as Grillby takes a seat across from me behind the, pushing a bottle of ketchup my way, and I thank him, opening the cap and sighing.

“Why did you pull me out of school?” I ask sternly, staring him in the eyes as he rests his chin on the backs of his hands.

“So you can relax,” he says softly, taking off his sunglasses before drumming his fingers on the counter top, “I know you, Sans. I know you’re in pain and you don't want to be there.”

I cast my chalky pastel gaze off to the side, the pace of my beating soul quickening. I don't respond to him, for a few moments, before saying, “I know _*hic*-”_ , I sob before taking a breath, and regaining my composure, still looking at the hard wood floor boards, “I-I know you want me to tell you what happened, but…” I trail off, pausing before I continue, “Grillb-by, I’m… I’m s-s-so ashamed of m-myself.”

Grillby shakes his head, before taking my hands in his; they’re so warm and comforting that I immediately calm down upon contact.

“Sans,” he starts his eyes boring into me, serious yet gentle, “I once was a teenager too, just like you. I’ve made many mistakes that I am also ashamed of, and I’m still working on redeeming myself. So let me help you redeem yourself as well.”

I grit my teeth and say, scarcely audible, “I want to trust you, but the last person I trusted broke my heart.”

Grillby gets up and walks around to the other side of the bar, where I’m sitting, and sits down next to me, questioning, “Sans, do you know why I dressed this way again?” I shake my head, looking at his attire again. “It’s because this is the way I dressed when I was your age.”

“Oh, wow,” I marvel, thinking, _‘so that’s why he looks so young.’_ I stare at him, ambivalent to what is to come next.

“Do you know how old I am now, Sans?”

I shake my head.

“I’m thirty-one. So, do you know how old my daughter is?”

“Fi… fifteen,” I whisper, the realization of Grillby’s story beginning to dawn on me.

“Yeah, she was born when I was your age, Sans,” he says, eyes lowering in thought, “Can you imagine, being a father right now?”

I quickly shake my head quickly, my stomach turning at the thought of being a parent at such a young age.

“Yeah,” he continues, leaning up against the bar top and pointing at thumb to himself, grinning, “I was your motorcycle-ridin’ bad boy, Sans. You know; the type of teenager who never did his homework, always got detention, wears a leather jacket, drank and smoked, always got into trouble with the authority, a real, ‘fuck the police’ type of dumb teen.”

I laugh, “Heh, heh! Seriously Grillby? But you’re such a hard-ass now!”

“Heh, yeah, I know. But I was definitely the type of teen who wasn’t ready for parenthood. And of course, there’s a reason for that.” He looks up at the ceiling, pondering before slamming his hands on the table, making me flinch and grin up at him; story time! “WHAM!” he starts of with a literal bang, catching my attention, pulling my grin even wider, “I crashed my motorcycle into a wall and total it, all because I was ogling this super hot chick that was walking past on the sidewalk!”

I burst out laughing and snorting and so does Grillby for that matter, our happiness filling up the vacant diner. “She runs over to me, and I’m totally embarrassed, because you know, you’re suppose to be the hunky guy who always saves the women, not the other way around. But she helps me up by my arm, and pulls me away from my bike; “Are you okay?” she yells, shaking me back and forth like a rag doll; she was a strong ass woman, I tell you! “Yes, I’m fine, knock that off!” I yell back, shoving her away, getting a surprised look from her. We stare at each other in shock at first, but then she frowns at me putting her hands on her hips and flipping her fiery green hair back, shouting, “I’m just trying to help, damn you!” And I come back with, “Well you helped a lot, making me crash my bike and shit; maybe try wearing a longer skirt next time ho!”’

Grillby shakes his head, chuckling, “And t-then haha, she’s just like, “Well don't be such a pervert, you dumb-ass!” I knew right then and there, she was the one; I loved her cheeky attitude that was equal to mine, her cute little figure, and how powerful she was- ‘she’s the pyromancer of my _dreams_ ’ I would always think to myself, she was perfect. And her name, was Starla.”

He drums his fingers on the table and smirks, “I found out that she was a new student at my school, and not even two weeks later, we start dating. I would sneak into her room at night, and take her out around the town on my new bike, we would cut classes just to make out in the custodian's closet as well.”

“How _romantic_ Grillby,” I simper mockingly and he laughs, “Did you put candles on the _Clorox Bleach_ as well?”

“Nope, the only things I’ve ever spent my money on at that time was gas for my bike, cigarettes, and pearls for my girl. So anyway, we’re a month into our relationship, and I meet her father; a scary old man, overly religious Christian who spent most of his days watching _Fox News_ , and complaining about lesbians. _‘Stay away from my daughter, you hooligan!’_ He would always say.”

I’m wheezing by now, laughing so hard that I’m snorting, holding my sides, as they feel like they’re going to split in half, “Grillby, stop,” I gasp, my eyes watering, “You’re killin’ me!”

“So then, you know, I was all like whatever, fuck you, I know what I’m doing old man; you know what I’m saying. So eventually, my girlfriend Starla and I rent out a hotel room, and found some whisky bottles in the mini fridge. We got drunk as hell, and ended up having sex and…”

Grillby trails off and I have the feeling that I know what’s coming up next.

“...And two weeks later, she told me that she’d been getting sick a lot in the morning, throwing up and stuff, she’d been having cravings and feeling bloated, and… she missed her period. I got her pregnant Sans. We had both been stupid that night, but I’m the one who pulled her along, and put the baby in her, so I’ll take most of the blame.”

I look down at my hands and I frown, saying, “I’m sorry.”

Grillby shakes his head and smiles, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine, and I don't want any pity, Sans, I’m an old man now, and I don't need that. Anyway, her old man was so furious, he kicked her out the house, and she called me and told me, and I came to pick her up. I couldn’t just leave her like that, pregnant and on the streets, so I take her into my house. From that point on, I pulled my shit together, I have a girl to worry about and a baby on the way, I couldn’t afford to be this childish delinquent anymore.” Grillby sneers and says, “My step dad always told me that I may always be a hell raiser then, but a woman would eventually put me in my place, get me to straighten up; and he was right. Nine months of living together and she was ready to give birth. I got the call from school of her letting me know that her water broke, and Sans,” he leans into me, his voice lowering to a mummer, “I’ve never ran, or biked faster in my goddamned life, going ninety down a street filled with pedestrians and cars.”

I laugh along with Grillby, my spirits never being lifted this high in a while.

“I rush her to the hospital, telling them my girlfriend was about to give birth, and do you know what they told me? This is exactly what they said: ‘Excuse me, sir, but this is a _humans only_ hospital, we can’t give you service here.’ And I nearly _snapped_ Sans,” I can see him actually working himself up again, “ ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I screamed at the nurse, ‘I have I woman, about to give fucking birth right now, and you won’t get us a doctor? I’d better see a doctor in five seconds or else I’m burning you bastards to the ground!’”

My mouth gapes; his mouth is-or was- filthier than mine, which is surprising from a classy man such as him.

“You have no idea how fast she got on that phone Sans, you had to see it to believe it, it was as if the damn thing teleported into her hand. So, Starla’s screaming at the top of her lungs, I’m freaking out, the doctor was pulling out the baby, and the nurse was holding her hand; it was a total miracle how it happened, my girl was so strong that day, stronger than she’d ever been. And that’s how my daughter Kendall came to be.”

He sits back down and folds his hands on the bar top. “That’s why I’m so uptight Sans; because I’ve made horrible choices and decisions back then, and I should have listened to the adults and supervisors around me. There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun, letting loose, and going crazy every once in awhile, but the problem with me was I did it every single day, not on occasion, and I’ve paid the price for it. That’s why I’m so over protective of Kendall, why I won’t let her go to any of those wild parties, Sans; because I don't want the same thing that happened to her mother happening to her, I don't want her to meet a man like me, her father.”

“Oh.” That was all I could say with hearing a story like that.

“So don't you see Sans,” Grillby catches my ivory eyes in his amber ones, “I was a teenager just like you, doing crazy stuff, breaking rules, so there’s nothing you can say to make me think any less of you, because I have no room to talk.”

“Grillby,” I whisper, leaning into him, “I’ll tell you what happened, but, you can’t. Tell. Anyone.”

“I swear on my soul and my daughter, Sans, I promise,” the pyromancer whispers back, patiently awaiting my story to begin.

“So, this all started last week, on Friday, right?” I start, my mouth suddenly feeling dry, so I take a swig of ketchup. “So, my friends are just talking and stuff, and I’m just sitting there and feeling kind of sad because, I forgot to take my anxiety pills that morning, so everyone is asking me if I’m okay and stuff when Mettaton butts in and says that ‘I need more sex in my life.’”

I blush and look down into my lap, playing with the sleeves of my hoodie again. “So everything kind of snowballs from there, um… they all kind of pressure me- except Blooky- into going to his party and,” I take another swig before continuing, “I agree to, so I go. There’s this guy that Mettaton sets me up on a blind date with, and, his name is Oliver Eves, and, he was perfect… or… at least I thought he was perfect. So we’re talking, right, and then after a couple hours of talking and drinking, he takes me outside, and we’re laying there together on top of his car.”

I look up from my lap, worried that Grillby is criticizing my choices of getting intimate with a man I don't necessarily know, but I see no hints of malice in his eyes, and that spurs me on to continue. “So I tell him about my past, about how I stopped believing in the caves of waterfall, how I’m depressed, how I was raised in an abusive home, and then he tells me that he loves me, and asks me if he could kiss me.”

“At least he’s gaining your consent,” Grillby breathes.

“Yeah, that’s true,” I answer, my cobalt blush lathering itself on my face, beads of sweat running down my skull when I’m about to describe him our risque make out and sex scenes, “So then we keep kissing and then… he pushes me down on his car, and before I knew it we’re making out.”

I didn’t even know it was possible, but I blush even harder, when I say, “Then he takes me back to his house and… we… um…” I swallow hard, screwing my eyes shut, “We had sex at his house- d-don't worry, w-w-we both c-consented, he didn’t… r-rape me. A-and throughout the whole time, he was so gentle to me, and so caring, and he took it slow and told me a million times that he loved me. And so, we made love… and he took my first kiss and my virginity.”

I let out a long breath that I didn’t realize I’ve been holding in. The embarrassing part is over, and now for the heart wrenching part to begin. “So I wake up the next morning, and he wasn’t there, so I just put on my clothes that he folded up for me and I walk into the living room and saw that…” I cry, and shove my hands to cover my eyes, my whole body is shaking, “ _*Hic*_ he was m-making out with s-s-some red haired girl that I-I didn’t kn-know, after he made l-love to me, after he told m-me that I-I was sp-pecial, Grillby, _*hic*_. H-he came b-b-back into the h-house, and I y-yelled at him, a-and called h-him out on his bullshit, and he got mad at me back *sob*. He said that *hic* the only reason why he said a-all those… nice things to m-me, was t-t-to get me into his bed!”

I cry even harder, folding my arms on the table and putting my head into my sleeves. In a muffled, almost incomprehensible voice, I continue, “S-s-so even after everything ab-bout my life I’ve t-told him, even how much I said I-I loved him, and h-how much he lo-loved me, i-it doesn’t even m-m-matter in the end! _*Hic*_ so, I went home a-and started… cutting myself again an-and today, my friends celebrated my one-hundred days of no self-harm e-even though it’s all a lie! _*Sob*_ a-and I just feel s-so dirty G-Grillby, and slutty, and gross!”

I look up, snot and tears running down my face, my throat hurting and my voice quivers, “Grillby, I’m falling apart,” I whisper, “All over again.”

Said bartender wipes beads of furious sweat from his forehead, his internal inferno fuming so hotly, that I can feel it from here. “He took advantage of your innocence, Sans. That’s so low.”

My mouth trembles, “W-what?” I squeak in a small voice.

“From what you’re telling me, this _Oliver Eves_ is quite experienced and skillful of getting people like you to sleep with him. He’s done this before, Sans; this isn’t his first time around the bend.”

“N-no that’s not true! He… no one can be that awful!” I shake my cranium in denial, a poisonous, metallic taste on my tongue.

“You’re refusing the truth, Sans. He only wanted you for your body. He only wanted you to make him feel good, and that’s it. He never loved you. Shame on him, and shame on Mettaton too; he knew Oliver, he knew what was going to happen.”

I brawl.

“Sans, come here,” Grillby says, walking back around to my side and holding me in a tight embrace, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I calm down, enough to listen, but aqua tears still run down my indigo stained cheeks. I put a sleeved hand up to my frowning mouth, looking up at the orange flame through the iridescence of my bleached irises.

“Sans, I’m sorry, but that man only wanted sex from you; he’s shallow. All those things he might have told you; you’re so beautiful, I love you, I need you in my life, you’re a gorgeous person, were all to convince you to sleep with him. I’m sorry that this happened to you. You’re so young, and to be taken advantage of like that… ”

“G-Grillby i-it just can't b-be that way,” I mummer taking a deep breath, “I can’t believe I was so stupid that night. I mean, I have been drinking but not enough to impair my decision making. I just wanted to be loved, to be held like the way he held me that night. I just wanted to be cherished after being abused and oppressed my whole life! It was the only chance I saw for that, and I ruined it!”

“I know how you feel Sans, but he took advantage of that” he replies, “But you can’t expect to get that type of attention from a stranger. He only saw your body, and not your personality, not your soul. But don't worry, Sans, I’ll help you get through this, after all; I’m your boss, it’s my job to watch after you as well.”

Silence ensues around us like a comforting blanket, and I’m thankful for it while it lasted, but I decide to break it, because I need to know the answer to this question while I still have the chance. We listen to the outside commotion of traffic in the streets. I clear my throat, and look to Grillby; about to ask him a question that’s been brewing in my mind for the longest time.“E-ever since I had sex with him, Grillby, I seen the world in a totally different way; everything is so overly sexual and… weird, mostly in ads and stuff. Have you noticed this too Grillby?”

“Yes Sans, it’s because sex sells. Love and lust are some of the most powerful catalysts for impulse, that’s why advertisements use it so much; because it catches your attention, and doesn’t let go.”

I let that sink in for a bit, just allowing my eyes to close and my body to fall in Grillby’s comforting hold. We sit like that for a while, inside his quiet, empty, bar, listening to sounds of the traffic outside and the flickering light in the back room. I suddenly feel the pyromancer tug at my hoodie sleeves and I whimper softly, but don't stop him; I don't think I have the energy to stop him in the first place.

 _“You gotta knock that off, Sans,”_ he mutters, eyeing my recent handiwork on my wrists and arms, “You’re above that, kiddo.”

“I know,” I sigh, rubbing one of my eye sockets, “I will one day, I promise.”

-Chapter End-


	4. Heartbreak Four: Skeleton Heat, Hitting on Your Boss From Work And Random Acts of Violence?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know that last chapter was mostly filler and is the aftermath of what happened at Mettaton's party, but this chapter and onward will be much more interesting :)

 

One day, over the phone, Grillby told me to prepare for my first heat cycle, and that a skeleton’s heat starts from around two to two-and-a-half weeks after they had sex for the first time, and sure enough, mine had started in full swing, seventeen days after I was taken.

It is another hot summer night- hotter than usual- and I’m tossing and turning in my sleep, having a rather… _strange ‘dream’_. Inside my fantasy world I mewl softly, feeling a warm, soft hand glide up the inside of my femur, just before my pelvis, and began to draw circles into the top of my thigh, making me squirm.

_‘Ah,’ I whimper and beg, my toes curling and uncurling over and over, ‘Please… d-don't tease me…”_

_The figure of somebody above me grins, but it’s so dark, and they’re so shadowed out from my vision, I can’t describe much past their smirk. I feel the nebulous being lean down and gives me a chaste kiss, soft and sweet, before nipping at my collar bone, and making me keen. The hand that is playing with the neck of my left femur creeps up a bit further and brushes against my pubic symphysis, and I cry out, my legs shaking. I conjure my entrance and member embarrassingly fast as well, making me cover my face in humiliation._

_‘Don't hide from me, baby,’ a husky, and familiar voice breaths into my ear socket, brainwashing me in an instant. I feel them go lower, and pry my legs open and my face flushes a deep cornflower blue as my eyes lid with lust. I suddenly feel hot breath on my vulva, and I gasp and moan; but that’s nothing compared to the feeling of a tongue drawing over my sensitive nub, the metal ball of a piercing rubbing over my clit. I nearly flat out scream, my hands flying to tangle themselves in thick obsidian hair. They keep going, two fingers spreading my lips, and the hot wet appendage dipping into my soaking, drenched slit to taste my need._

_‘Ahhun! Ahh~’ My eyes roll back, and the ceiling above me fades, the scent of my arousal thick and musky in the air, the flexible, slick muscle working my inner walls making me fall limp. I spread my legs even farther by hooking my hands under my knees and pulling them apart, and buck my hips up into the mysterious person’s mouth, begging a greater pleasure to be given. ‘Ahn, p-pleas-se, m-more~’_

_They pull their tongue from my orifice, and replace it with a well-endowed length, and gave my hole a hearty press. My head rolls on the pillows as the girth breaches me._

_‘Auhhn, it feels good~ Ah!’ I moan, I small smile gracing my mouth, my irises turning into little alabaster hearts. I wrap my arms around the silhouetted figure above me as they pull out, only to thrust back in at an inhuman pace, leaving me crying out, keening in the utmost pleasure. My vision is already swimming with want, my tongue lolling out and drool creeping out the corner of my mouth, a permanent grin of ecstasy pulling at the corners of my mouth._

_‘God,you’re so cute~’ the person above me croons lecherously, an erotic edge on their voice, making the corners of my sight turn_ white already.

 _I roll my hips up in time with each thrust, screwing my eyes shut, my arms still wrapped tightly around my unknown lover. I feel them reach down with skillful, experienced hands, and began rubbing circles into my hypersensitive knot and stroking my length, twisting their wrist up and down on my shaft and circling fingertips into my swollen little bud_ _._

_‘Ughun~ Hahn~ Ah-ahun!Ohhn~ I’m cumming!’ I warn, white blotting out my vision. As I cum, I see two different colored eyes staring down at me with burning passion; one a caramel brown, and the other an ocean blue… hetero chromia…_

***

“Ah! Huh?” I jolt up, bewildered and befuddled, “What?”

I’m in a cold sweat, my brow furrowed in confusion, my hands clenching the sheets so hard they ache and I’m panting and out of breath for some reason. I look around, and I’m back in my room, and it’s six in the morning. I let out a long side, cursing myself for being so stupid. I’m about to go back to sleep or another hour, but I then hear a curious noise that originates from between my legs.

_*Shlick. Squelch.*_

What the hell was that?

I look down at the sheets and gasp, blushing a bright aquamarine; they’re _completely soaked_ from my discharge!

For a moment, I am thinking that I’ve wet the bed, but I soon realize that that isn’t it when my dream comes fleeting back to me. Oh. Oh no. I-I didn’t mean it!

I peer under the covers and find that my member and entrance are fully manifested, and I feel a strong heat resonating from all over my body, my soul and ecto-genitals _throbbing, begging_ for pleasure and release. I must have gotten my first heat cycle. I panic; I can’t go to school like this! Maybe I can pleasure myself before I leave, after all, I have an hour before I have to get ready.

Without a second thought, I position the pillows in such a way as to where I can sit up against them comfortably, and I kick off the blankets, spreading my naked legs apart. I’ll admit; I’m nervous about touching myself, I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure it’s not too hard. I already feel hot all over, my eyes lid and my mouth parting so I can pant. A deep blue blush spreads across my face as I brush fingers against my cervical vertebrae, then my rib cage, making myself flinch, and then down to my spine, and slowly twisting my hand up and down on the plates.

“Ah~” I quietly moan, as to not wake up my brother, biting my bottom jaw.

I allow my other hand to reach down lower to play with myself, fondling my sac gingerly with an aroused sigh, rolling my thumb over the blue softness. “Ahuh~ Ohhn~” It feels strange doing this to myself, and it makes my bones even hotter- if that’s even possible- knowing that I’m doing such a lewd activity to my own body. I drag a single digit up the length of my erection, coaxing some blue fluid to gather at the tip, my want growing even stronger. I give my penis a few satisfying pumps and rubs of the head before slipping down to my parted labia, a single skeletal finger dancing on the wet lips.

“Ahuhn!” I moan, a bit louder this time, my body jerking around a bit, “Ahh…”

I allow another finger to join my first, and I unconsciously slip them down lower, and accidentally brush over my clit. I fling my head back, my eyes tiny little hearts already; I’m _so_ sensitive. I stop at my entrance to my vagina, a bit anxious to put something in by myself since I’m so inexperienced with this thing. My skinny legs wobble with excitement and anticipation, my breath hitching with nervousness as I feel the tight ring of ecto-muscle spreading and my two digits slipping inside all the way.

“OH!... Ohhh~” I gasp, my fingers sinking even farther inside my moist cavity. I want more…

I am now moaning every single second, loud and wantonly, kneeling on the bed and riding three of my fingers like there’s no tomorrow, my hips meeting my phalanges with each thrust, pre-cum spilling down my wrists. My tongue hangs freely from my mouth as my thumb mashes into my swollen, needing bud, tiny white hearts dancing inside my eye sockets, and my weeping member bobs eagerly with each movement of my hips. It’s not enough! I reach my right hand up under my ribs and fondle my oozing soul, massaging the glowing organ and screaming in euphoria.

“Ah-ughhn~ Ahhh~!”

I slip my fingers from my leaking opening, and my essence runs down my thighs, making me moan. I half lidded eyes roam and ravish my coated blue fingers with lust, and I decide to stick them in my mouth(don't judge me) and I sigh. It tastes so sweet, and yummy. I hungrily clean my fingers, before shoving them back inside my body at full force, making myself keen in delight, my velvety inner walls melting at the sudden invasion. I grin like a maniac, reaching my other slick hand from my soul to join the one at my crotch, and I slip three more fingers inside myself; now I have six fingers, all pumping in and out of my weeping, crying vulva- everything is so sticky, everything is so _hot._

“Uuh- Ahuh~! I-I’m gonna cum! Auhhn~ - _AH!_

I’m teetering on the very fringes of orgasm, that arousing peak that I want- that I _need_ so bad, that climax that I’ve been searching for, it’s coming-

“SANS?”

Oh, _fuck_ me sideways.

“P-PAPYRUS!” I gasp, my soul plummeting in nothing less than pure dreadful awe.

Snapping out of my euphoric trance, I nearly scream, covering my whole body with soiled blankets, “PAPYRUS! DON'T LOOK!”

Papyrus flinches at my yelling, tears welling up in his eyes. Poor thing.

“I-I’m sorry, Sans,” he whimpers wiping away his tears, “I-I didn’t know…”

I sigh, casting my eyes away, “I’m sorry I yelled, Paps, just… just close my door, and I’ll be out in a second.”

Papyrus nods and closes my bedroom door and I let out a groan entirely unrelated to sex. I’ve just exposed myself to my eleven-year-old brother.

Typical.

***

Breakfast is awkward as all living hell, as it is eaten in complete silence, the crunching of the cereal so loud that it echos in my skull, but that might just be me. Every time I bring my spoon up from my bowl, my hand shakes so hard that all the milk and cereal falls off the utensil, and back into the dish.

“Hey Sans?” Papyrus asks me quietly, playing with his food.

“Ah, y-yes?” I answer, my voice cracking.

“Why were you hurting yourself earlier? You’ve promised you wouldn’t.”

“W-what do you mean Pap?”

He sniffles, shifting in his chair, then looking me in the eyes. “You were moaning and screaming, so I thought you were in pain, that’s why I came to your room.”

I choke on my Frosted Flakes.

Oh God, Buddha, Allah, Yahweh, and all the other deities in the sky(that I don't in fact worship or believe in) bless my little brother’s beautiful, pure soul. He needs a Nobel Peace _prize right now._

“Papyrus bro,” I start… how should I put this? “I… I wasn’t hurting myself, I was… um…”

Papyrus stares at me intently, with big, innocent eyes.

“I-I wasn’t in pain, it…felt good.” I moisten my dry mouth, “I was doing…something that you don't need to know right now. It’s a grown up thing.”

“Oh, okay,” he says, pouting a bit.

“Hey, Paps, listen,” I say grabbing his attention, “That thing I was doing, is something that should be a secret. It’s done in private, so you and I can’t tell anyone okay? It's something that when a monster does when they get this thing called a cycle, and they have to relieve themselves from all the feelings. You’ll learn about it when you’re older, okay? And I'm so sorry I yelled at you; I was out of line.”

“Okay Sans!” Papyrus agrees, and I pat him on the head and sigh in relief. I’m so glad that this worked out smoothly. I don't want to ruin my little brother’s innocence, so next time, I’ll be sure to lock the door before I do anything like that again. Well, if I want to do anything like that ever again.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, curious to see who it is. I got some from Grillby, and some from Blooky; I still feel down about bailing on my own celebration, even though I’ve apologized over and over to him. So instead, I open Grillby’s messages instead and read through them:

Grillby: Hey, how are you doing kid?

Grillby: Is everything going okay, no one bothering you?

I sigh at the nickname ‘kid’, instantly getting reminded of the time I would call Frisk kid- even though we’re practically around the same age- before she ran off. I answer back, my thumbs quickly typing away on the slide out keyboard.

Me: yeah i’m fine grillbs

…

Grillby: You haven’t been hurting yourself, have you?

Me: …

...

Grillby: Sans, you need to stop that. Right away.

Me: i can’t.

Grillby: Do you need to skip school again?

…

Me: no.

Grillby: Please, Sans let me know if you need absolutely anything! (worried face emoji).

Me: ok.

Grillby: Sans, I mean it, okay?

Me: ok, grillby. i got it.

Grillby: I’ll talk to you later.

Me: thanks grillby.

Grillby: Anytime, Sans.

Sighing, I rub the back of my skull and pinch my eyebrows together, opening up Blooky’s texts.

Blooks: Hey, how’s it going?

Blooks: Sans?

Blooks: Fine, I guess you can just bail on me again, like you did last week.

Me: i said i was sorry.

Blooks: I was so excited Sans, and you totally just walked out.

Me: i’m sorry, blooky, i got sick.

Blooks: I know Sans I just… I’m just frustrated.

Me: …

Blooks: do you want to come hang out after school with me Undyne and Alphys? Or are you just going to leave without a word again?

Me: i’ll come, i promis.

Me: *promise

Blooks: k

I sigh again; he’s still mad at me. Whenever Napstablook answers a text with just ‘k’, it means he’s horrendously upset, but at least, he isn’t upset to the point of not inviting me to hang out anymore. I can at least be thankful for that.

“Come on, Paps,” I wave over to my little brother, “Let’s get out of here.”

***

Oh, god… I’m so horny! I know that I didn’t get to orgasm this morning, and my body definitely isn’t letting me forget it, giving me almost painful throbs of complaint and want. I fidget in my seat, my hands tucked tightly in my lap, the heat waves overcoming me again. I’m so nervous and scared, it might be all in my mind, but I swear I can feel wetness in my pants, and a bulge that’s protruding from my attire. My face is deeply flushed and hot, and I’m so humiliated and afraid of everyone around me. Why am I so stubborn? Why didn’t I take Grillby’s offer and skip school again?

“Hey, are you okay?” The monster who sits next to me taps me on the shoulder- an alligator/lizard girl named Bratty- and the completely non-sexual contact makes me flinch and almost cry out, but I bite down the embarrassing sound, and it dies in my throat. Oh, Christ… it’s worse than I though!

I turn to the lizard monster, a hand placed over my mouth, and a marine blush covering my cheeks. “I-I’m sorry,” I mumble, averting my eyes.

Bratty stares at me, astonished, and then nods quickly and turns away, color staining her cheeks. “Sorry,” she says. ‘She knows!’ I think with a gasp, my flush thickening. ‘Oh, no! I can’t.’ I wiggle harder in my seat. For some reason… knowing that someone has discovered my heat cycle… makes me even more… turned on. Oh. N-no! I can’t be thinking about these dirty thoughts! I can’t be thinking about such lewd things about someone I hardly even know! But… my body… I’m losing control of it.

I snap my attention away from my arousal, and focus on my calculus and sigh in content. Math and science always helps me cope, and these look like nice long ones. ‘Nice… Long… Ones…’ My mouth started to water, my vision getting blurry again, the fire in my crotch burning harder and stronger. I quickly snap out of it, and I mentally slap myself for objectifying math. The last thing you need is to think about dick, Sans! Focus Calibri, focus! Let’s see, chain rules- compute the derivative of y=f(x) with respect to x… easy! I quickly scribble down equations and solutions when another heatwave hits me and I shiver in pleasure. I’m so glad that I wore my baggiest clothes today, otherwise, my ‘problem’ would be on blast for everyone to see. I lock my knees together, and lower my gaze to the last problem, which was quickly solved. I sigh and lay back in my chair; it’s done.

“Done already Sans?” Mrs. Dreemurr asks, taking my paper and looking over my solutions.

I quickly nod, as the goat monster checks my answers and gives a satisfied hum.

“You’re quite advanced, Sans,” she compliments, “I think you should move up another grade!”

“Ah, I can’t do that Mrs. Dreemurr,” I say, flattered, “I don't want to leave my friends.”

Or, lack thereof at the moment.

“What a good person you are,” she says, before going off to help a student with their hand up.

She’s such a sweet old lady. A sweet old lady that I greatly respect and look up to, like Grillby. Both of the monsters had so much discrimination and flak thrown at them that it’s just ridiculous; Dreemurr being paid significantly less because she is a monster, and Grillby having a hard time buying the property of his diner for the same reason. They’re such good, kind souls yet they still get treated like shit, just because of their appearance. Haven’t those humans who are prejudice heard the saying: assume makes an ass out of you and me? (But mostly just you, if I’m being honest). Well, everyone faces hardship, because that’s just life. Everyone gets shi-

“Nmmh~” Another heatwave catches me off guard, and makes me moan. My eyes shoot wide as Bratty turns my way again and says, “Hey Sans, I think you should go to the nurse’s office, so they can send you home.”

“O-okay…”

***

It’s been ten minutes after I’ve texted Grillby to pick me up. I bounce my leg in anxiety, clenching onto my backpack, sweat pooling down my skull as the flame of my arousal still burns on. I take out my phone again and open up my message with Blooky again, and text:

Me: hey man. i’m just letting you know i can’t make it again.

Five minutes pass before I get a text from the robot.

Blooks: k

Ah, _fuck!_ Blooky, I’m so sorry, I messed it up again! Even after I promised you that I would show up, here I am, canceling yet again. He probably hates me but I don't blame him; I hate myself too. Who would want to be friends with someone who always ends up bailing? Because I sure wouldn’t. I look up from my phone, to see the nurse sitting at her desk, pretending to read a novel when in all actuality, her green eyes are boring into me like daggers. Totally fed up with all the BS that has happened to me today, I snap at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” I growl, catching the woman off guard, “Do you think I’ll _hurt_ you or something, just because I’m one of those _freaks_ , right?”

She stares at me shocked and appalled at my words, her mouth agape. “Why- *gasp*- how dare you think that I would do such a thing? I _welcome_ monsters!”

“Is that why you were holding your book up like that, so you can _‘read’_ ,” I made air quotations when I put emphasis on read, “Come on ma’am, that’s the oldest one… _in_ _the book!_ You can say… that you’re, _easy to read!”_ I wink at her when I made the puns, trying to keep the situation light, “Do you really take me, this straight ‘A’ student for an idiot? Well, I’ll admit lady, I do look dumber than I actually am so I’ll give this a pass.”

The flabbergasted nurse simply stares, and then begins to stammer, “Y-you t-t-take me, and humans for r- _racists?_ How d-dare you! All humans are-are welcoming a-and nice an-”

As if on cue, someone walks into the office; it was that one kid who ran away from me in the bathroom that short while ago. He’s about to head to the desk when he turn and sees me, his eyes going wide with horror.

“I-i-it’s y-you! T-th-the _freak!”_ He screams and shouts, running out the door as fast as he came in.

I turn back to the nurse, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, ma’am, _not one single human_ is racist,” adding facetiously I say, “Hey look, I was _totally wrong; I’ll_ take the ‘L’ this time."  

The door opens again and this time it’s someone I actually want to see right now; Grillby.

“C’mon kid,” he says, pushing up his sunglasses, “Let’s get you out of here.”

“‘Kay Grillbs,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder and giving the nurse one last wink before I left.

“What’s wrong?” The pyromancer asks, straightening his jacket, “Is someone bothering you?”

I pinch my eyebrows together in a frown, and say, “People always bother me man, but this… is different.”

“Will you tell me about it later?” The pyromancer asks, looking at his phone for a brief minute.

“Yeah, I will Grillby.”

We’re out of the school when Grillby gets his keys, and angles them to an old black truck, saying, “I brought my car this time, because, you know, two men riding on a motorcycle is gay.”

I blush and frown hard, “I-I didn’t mean it th-that way!”

The orange flame laughs, opening the car door for me and helping me up, “I’m just messing with you Sans.”

He hops in, and starts the truck, pulling out of the lot and taking me on the road. But I notice that he’s deviating from the path that he usually takes.

“Hey Grillbs,” I say, looking out the window, “Isn’t the bar the other way?”

“Yeah, but I’m taking you to my place this time, Sans. The manager is running the diner for me for the while I’m gone.”

“Oh.”

“So tell me what’s wrong, Sans.”

I hug my sides, my humiliation coming back to me, as I hug my sides, my cheeks flushing a deep azure. I fidget where I sit again, tucking my hands back into my lap, drawing my knees up as I bite my bottom jaw and shake my head whispering, “I can’t… it’s so embarrassing.”

“On second though, you don't have to tell me, kid,” Grillby says, a simper in his voice, “I can _smell_ it.”

I choke on my saliva, navy covering not just my whole head, but my whole body, and it doesn’t help that another heatwave, stronger than ever hits me at full force, and I unconsciously buck my hips up with an aroused gasp, my pelvis twitching eagerly and I become mortified with disbelief that my body is betraying me. I’m so humiliated that I just want to die, but I settle for the next best thing; pulling up my blue sweater to cover my face, hauling up my knees so my feet are on the seat, and curling myself into a tight ball of sheer embarrassment.

“Sans, come now, you don't need to hide from me.”

“Sans isn’t here,” I mumble sheepishly, “Sans is in Sweater Town.”

Grillby simply laughs out loud, shaking his head. “You don't need to keep getting embarrassed like this, Sans, I know that you’re finally in heat- I can tell by the way you’re acting; but it’s nothing for you to be ashamed of.”

I pulled my sweater down enough to reveal the tops of my eye sockets, my pupils darting up to see Grillby’s face focused on the road ahead, “It’s not to be… ashamed and guilty of?" I whisper, tears pooling at the bottom of my sockets.

“Sans, of course not hon,” he mummers kindly, and my soul soars for a split second. He has never called me ‘hon’ before, and that makes me feel loved. “It’s part of your natural biology, kid,” he continues, slowly coaxing me out of my sweater, out of my shell, “It’s the start of your reproductive cycle, and everyone has it, so don't feel like you’re alone, in fact, I think you should celebrate it, it shows that you're maturing.”

I pull down my shirt, still blushing like a madman, “But you said you can smell it…”

Grillby chuckles softly, “Yeah, I can. You see, Sans, a skeleton’s- well every monster’s body gives off certain pheromones that’s unique to them that attracts people; it’s mostly acts on other monsters, but humans could be drawn by the scent as well.”

Welp, I’m going back to Sweater Town, and this time, it’s not just a trip this time; I’m moving there.

“S-so…” I mutter, utterly done for, “E-e-everyone around me… could s-smell my… h-heat…”

“Yes Sans; skeleton heat has the strongest scent of all the monsters, naturally.”

“Nooooo, why meeee?” I begin to cry out of humiliation and bewilderment, sobbing into my arms and sweater.

“It’s a part of you Sans, a part that may be unfortunate, but I’ll teach you how to cope and deal with it.” I notice that he frets where he sits, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck, and before I could ask why, he pulls into a driveway, telling that we’re here. I grab my pack and step out the truck, looking at a rather nice, two story house, that is littered all around with beautiful flowers, ranging from roses to violets to bleeding hearts.

“You’re garden is beautiful, Grillby,” I compliment, looking around the porch.

“That’s kind of you to notice, but I can’t take any of the credit, Kendall did all this.”

“She did an amazing jo-” before I could finish another word, rush of a heatwave hits me, and yet again, I’m taken away with the powerful current of my body, locking my knees together, and holding myself between the legs. My face flushes a bright cyan as my entire being wobbles; the textured fabric of my clothing feels suddenly too rough and abrasive on my sensitive bones, and I moan, almost falling over, but Grillby catches me and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his middle and slinging my arms over his broad, square shoulders as my face is still contorted from bliss. He gingerly unlocks the front door, and leads the way inside.

By the time he takes me up to his room, I’m panting, my heat cycle taking the best of me and my ability to recuperate. He tries to lay me on the bed, but I don't let go of the pyromancer- in fact, I cling onto him even tighter than before, squeezing my legs around his torso and holding onto his neck tighter. I need it.

“Sans,” Grillby murmurs softly, making me whine, “You have to let go.”

I let out a faint, soft cry of disapproval, stiffing my vice grip even harder in retaliation, not wanting to let go of the person who’s giving me such pleasurable warmth and friction. Grillby sighs in defeat and whispers to me, “Look, I’ll lay down with you, can you let me go for just a second so I can get you an ice pack and a cool towel?”

I whine again, but concur, loosening my hold on the orange pyromancer, and finally slipping off and onto the sheets. Grillby pets my forehead and I rub against it, trying to get as much contact as possible, but then it left, then the flame left, and I am left alone.

I writhe in pain and pleasure, torment and bliss, crying out his name weakly, “Grillby! Grillby…!”

A wretched sob worms it’s way from my throat, and tears spill down my face as my heat and sheer despair overwhelm me, crazy thoughts plaguing my mind. What if he never comes back? What if he leaves me here, like this? So vulnerable and so needy? After of what feels like an eternity of waiting- but was actually no more than two minutes- Grillby comes back with his items, taking extra care to wear gloves so he doesn’t get hurt by the water in the ice packet and towel. I let out a sigh of the utmost relief and I feebly extend my my arms to him, wanting so desperately to be taken, “G-G-Grillby, c-c-come h-here~”

Grillby sets the pack and the towel on the long table, and lays beside me, and I’m immediately on him; my head in the crook of his neck, my hands frantically grasping at his shoulders, my torso and pelvis flush against him, and my legs spread on either side of his body. “Grillby~ Grillby!” I moan his name in his ear, trying to turn him on, craving him-craving _anyone_ to give me what I need.

“Sans,” the pyromancer whispers, “I said I would lay with you, I didn’t say that I would have sex with you.”

I sob out of knowing the fact that I don't have anyone to give me release from this agony. Another strike of heat hits me and my whole body cries out, tears streaming down my face, and I tighten around the pyromancer, but end up being pushed off yet again, and I break down in defeat. “Please! I'm so horny~!”

“Shh, hush Sans,” Grillby tries to sooth, grabbing the damp towel with a gloved hand and wiping my forehead with it, “You’ll get through this. Don't worry; the first heat cycle is always the worst. Once your body gets use to it, it will all even out.”

“G-Grillby,” I whine, ripping the towel from his hand and throwing it back on the table( right where it belongs!) and surprising him. I then take off one of his glove with my teeth, and conjure up my tongue, swiping it up his digits, coating each one in saliva, and bobbing my head gently, practically preforming fellatio on his appendages and moaning at the flavor, saying, “You taste so good~”

“God, Sans,” Grillby growls, rather lecherous, “You have to stop the this… b-before…”

“Mmm~ Before what?” I hum, still sucking off his fingers, enjoying the slight burn and sizzle on my tongue, and deriving pleasure from it while teasing my boss.

“Grillby,” I whisper sultry and wanting, my voice thick and lewd with arousal as I lick my teeth and his finger, giving him the most erotic, bedroom eyes that I could muster while biting down softly on my bottom jaw, “Please… _fuck me~”_

I am suddenly shoved down onto the bed, my hands on either side of my skull and Grillby’s face in my neck breathing in my pheromones. I cry out in pleasure, spreading my legs and thrusting my hips up at the sudden contact, my eyes lid and turn into hearts. _'_ _Oh, god yes, please!'_

“God, Sans, you smell so fucking good.” He says his fiery tongue flicking up my cervical vertebrae and his hot hands massaging massaging my inner thighs, making me mewl and sob in ecstasy. In turn, it I push my hips up into the bartender's pelvis, rolling my hips sensually and licentiously into him, and the low rumble of a purr can be heard in his throat. I can hear, feel, taste the masculinity and dominance in his voice, and that gets me hot, hotter than I thought possible. I can feel my body giving into the feeling- no; I can feel Grillby’s body giving into the feeling, I’ve already given in. But suddenly, I hear the pyromancer sigh, and then lean up, leaving me yet again.

Tears stream back down my face and I wail, “No, Grillby! D-don't tease me! I want this! I need this! You can’t just leave me!”

“Ah, Sans,” the orange flame chuckles weakly, shaking his head and his flames crackling, “At this rate, you’re going to turn me into a pedophile.”

I sob again, brawling into my hands, “G-Grillby! I-I wanna have sex! I need it! P-please! H-how can be so c-cruel? Grillby, I… I…," I look him straight in his amber eyes, my alabaster ones pleading and desperate,"...I want your cock~”

“Sans, listen,” the pyromancer coughs and blushes, then leans into me, stroking my wet cheeks, “You’re in heat. If we are to have sex, you’ll end up regretting it once you’re off your cycle, so I’m not going to take advantage. You won’t be happy afterwards. It’s your body telling you what you want, not your mind. Besides, we can’t have sex _every single time_ you get your cycle.”

He puts his glove back on and reaches for the towel and ice pack and lays them on my head, trying to cool me down. I whine and squirm in frustration, whimpering, “No! That’s not what I need, Grillby. I need you!”

Grillby sighs again, scratching his flaming head, and then asking, “Sans, have you ever masturbated before?”

I stop writhing and flush an even brighter aquamarine,“Only t-this morning,” I shudder and gasp when another wave of heat hits me, my spine twitching.

“How about I leave you alone for a while, and you can relive yourself?”

“But I want you to do it~”

“I know Sans, but here,” he slides off of the bed, and before I can latch onto him, he steps out of the room, and I shiver in anticipation. This time he quickly comes back, holding what looks to be the broken off handle of something that’s light green in color, and quite thick and long, and slightly flexible. In his other hand is a small bottle of body oil. He hands both items on the bed and nods to me, before strolling out and saying behind the door, “I’ll give you privacy for a few hours, do whatever you have to do.”

*Click*. The door quietly closes and I hear Grillby’s steps descend down the stairs, and I’m already drawing the blinds to his window, stripping as fast as possible; oh _stars,_ it’s so unbelievably hot! I’ve got my sweater off and when I pull down my pants I find that they’re soaking wet with my arousal. I toss them somewhere carelessly to the side, and jump back on the bed. Before I get started, I analyze the phallic shaped object Grillby gave me; it definitely isn’t any kind of sex toy, and looks a bit old but it’s clean. It’s a light shade of green and somewhat bendable, quite thick, smooth, made of a soft plastic, and a decent length: it’s perfect.

I can feel myself getting excited, another wave of heat hitting me with full force; I can’t take it anymore. Without any foreplay, I quickly jump straight to business, slicking up the object for my entrance with the oils Grillby gave me. I briefly think about why a pyromancer would need body oil, but the thought fades from my mind as my body is wracked again, my penis jumping as a reaction. I don't even prepare my slit with my fingers first, getting right to the point by rubbing the phallic handle on my hole, parting my legs as far as they could go. I let out a loud, needy moan as I press the thing harder against me, my cavity so wet that no fingering was needed, and the green commodity slithers inside me, and I wail flinging my head back. _It’s so good~. So, so good~._

“Auhhn~Oh-ohhn~! Auhh~ Ah!”

I drive my new dildo in and out of myself, screaming and moaning so loud that my throat is already starting to get sore, my entire body rocking on the bed, and I’ve just gotten started. More heat crashes over me like a tidal wave of bliss and I reach down and grasp my weeping member, my hand flying up and down on it while lower, the handle is thrusting in and out of my crying entrance relentlessly fast. I leave my length alone to reach down and rub my clit, and I can already feel orgasm upon me.

“Ahu-ahhuhn! I-I’m gonna- ahuh!” One final scorching wave hits me so hard, it knocks the wind out of me, my mouth slacks into a soundless wail, tiny ivory hearts twinkling in my eye sockets like candles. My essence goes everywhere; all over the bed, the sheets, and my body and I feel bad for Grillby for a split second; he’s going to have to clean up the sheets (and probably me) later. Even though I’ve just came, that doesn’t stop me from still stimulating myself, and I’m soon hypersensitive from over stimulation; every single movement, every single texture that adorns me makes me cry out in ecstasy.

I can feel chills and heat racing up and down my spine, electric shocks of pleasure radiating from my soul and clitoris, an overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brink originating from my stretched out cavity and both my “g-spot” and “a-spot” being slammed into repeatedly from the brutally punishing pace I’ve set, jolts of euphoria resonating in my member and spreading over my whole body. It’s all at the point of being stuck in the limbo of it’s too much, and it’s not enough. My hands and fingers work nimbly, fumbling with myself, my face contorting in delight, drool creeping down my chin and my eyes screwing shut again. I’m absolutely sure that my thick pheromones are wafting all around Grillby’s house right now, but I don't give a fuck; the only thing that’s important to me at this very moment is making myself cum, over and over and over again.

And as if on cue, my inner walls clench down on the green phallus, and I scream.

I let go. And cum for a second time.

I begin laughing out of delirium and being driven over the edge time and time again, tears streaming down my flushed and sweaty face, my soul releasing all down my spine and on my ribs. I give my sensitive knot a harsh pinch to keep my climax lingering around as long and as strongly as possible, my whole body being rocked from head to toe.

Instead of continuing like last time, I give my being a break, so I don't pass out from my lust and pleasure. I lay there, splayed out on Grillby’s bed, panting like an animal, my arms outstretched on the covers. I don't even bother taking out the handle; I just leave it inside, my labia still contracting lazily around it from the post-orgasms; I’ve never wanted it more.

Not ever.

***

“Uhgn- ahhun~ Cumming~!” I sob weakly, climaxing for a sixth (you heard right, sixth- or maybe even more, at times like these, I forget how to even count) time, my fluids of want drenching the entire bed by now, my face bluer than it has ever been, my ivory pupils enormous white hearts now, my whole body twitching and spamming as I cum harder than ever, my penis still bobbing eagerly between my legs releasing its essence, my sore vagina snapping down so hard that it hurts. My overly swollen and bloated nub gives me a few more electric discharges. Speaking of discharges, my sweat, ejaculate, and whatever other fluids I’ve released runs down my legs, dripping off onto the sheets and staining them a light aquamarine. My tongue lolls out of my mouth, saliva dripping off on my sternum- I’m so wet right now, I feel like I’ve just stepped out of a bath or shower. Finally, at long last, I pull the seafoam green handle from my weeping, flooded slit with a shaky hand, an immense amount of hot, sticky, blue ectoplasm running out and spilling between my legs; both my penis and vagina so overly spent from the multitude of the orgasms. I still moan and sob afterwards, unable to do anything else except twitch, jerk and groan. I can feel myself drift off into sleep, it’s gentle fingers soothing me after the painfully long and excruciatingly blissful heat cycle and masturbation.

***

I can feel someone massaging and rubbing my back, appeasing me and making me grin in peaceful happiness. I can smell a delicious float of a cinnamon-lemon fragrance, gentle and making my mouth water, I crack open my eye sockets, a satisfying heat distributes its way into my bones and through my clothes below me, and I hesitate to move from my comforting position- and I end up staying the way I am.

“Sans,” A deep, rumbling voice makes me groan in content, my fingers flexing on some soft fabric, curling into the warmth. I lean into the hand that dances on my back and spinal column, the sensation so soothing, so relaxing…

“Sans, don't go to sleep again, silly,” the tone above me gently scolds, and I do the exact opposite, feeling myself drift again. Much to my disfavor, I am shaken by my shoulder and I let out an agitated whine, shaking my head displeasure. I can hear a sigh and a chuckle above me and I jerk my neck upwards, into the direction of the voice and find the orange pyromancer staring down at me past his spectacles with content and alleviation.

“Ah, you’re finally awake, kid,” Grillby smiles kindly, “I made some tea if you’d want some. Oh yeah, and thanks for drooling all over me.” I sit up slowly, mumbling an apology, my legs folding snugly beneath me, my hands tucked into my lap- he must have cleaned me up and moved me to the sofa, what a nice guy. I gingerly rub my eye sockets, groaning and still sleepy. I suddenly jerk uncomfortably, my pelvis achy and tender from all the stimuli. I let out a small groan of pain, pinching my eyes shut.

“Sans, are you alright?” Grillby asks, hand on my knee.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine, it’s just that my pelvis is sore.”

“I would think so, kid. I thought you’d never wake up after that nasty heat,” the flame jokes, chuckling deeply, “You were knocked out cold after that predicament.”

A periwinkle blush unfolds itself on my face as my memories come flooding back to me, and I begin to cry; for basically no reason whatsoever.

“Hey, Sans,” Grillby whispers, taking me into his lap and cradling me as I bawl my eyes out yet again. I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately, more than I ever have, and maybe it’s from all the new raging hormones attacking my body, taking it on highs and lows.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tries to calm me down, but I shake my head.

“I-I-I’m t-terrible sc-scum!” I wail, tucking my face into the folds of my arms, tucking my knees into my chest and turning myself into a tight little ball.

“Now why would you say that?”

I can barely respond, my chest painfully heaving, tears pouring down my face. I can’t believe that I’ve just acted that way around Grillby- so slutty, so whorish, so shameless. It’s disgusting. I’m suppose to be dignified, I’m suppose to have pride and not give in so hastily to such horrible feelings like that. I feel so filthy. Just like society, and everyone else, I’ve given into my baser, carnal instincts, and almost got Grillby into having sex with me. He’s basically twice my age! How dirty of me! I thought I had self-respect, and morality, but I guess I in fact don't! Oh, god, I’ve just almost seduced my boss from work and also one of my best friends, and masturbated on his bed for an hour! This can’t get any worse! I’m literally the horrifying scum of the planet earth, and I hate myself for that. I hate myself for this.

I work on pulling myself together, rubbing my eye sockets and taking deep breaths, saying shakily, “Grillby, I’m so ashamed of myself! I’m just a total whore! I can’t control my body anymore and it’s scary!”

“You shouldn’t feel bad, it’s not your fault, Sans,” he mummers, handing me a cup of tea, which I accept with a muttered ‘thank you’ my hands shaking, “You’re just hormonal is all. This phase will pass eventually.”

I shake my skull and whisper, “No, I’m just… It’s all my fault, Grillby. I’m suppose to have self-control… I… we almost…Grillby…”

“That was my fault, Sans,” the pyromancer shakes his head with malfeasance, “Your scent had gotten to me, and I lost control from that. I hope you accept my apology.”

I quickly shake my head, giant tears rolling down my face. “It was my fault, Grillby, I lost control of my body when I shouldn’t have. And even though you kept saying you didn’t want to, I didn’t take no for an answer. I hope you accept my apology, Grillby.”

“Of course I do Sans,” the pyromancer whispers, rubbing my face, warming up my cheeks, “Besides, you have nothing to apologize for.”

I lid my eyes, and shift my weight on the couch, leaning into the orange flame, and kissing him on the cheek, my teeth pressing into the hot soul fire for several long seconds before pulling back, my face flushing a light hue of sky blue. I can see a light pink blush on the pyromancer’s face as well, his flames turning a lovely shade of cherry blossom.

“Thanks, Grillby,” I squeak quietly, casting my fair gaze off to the side, “Thank you for being here for me, when no one else will.”

“Anytime Sans.”

We sit there quietly, sipping on tea, when I get a buzz from my phone; someone’s calling me. I excuse myself from Grillby, setting down my tea on the coffee table and answer with a quick “hello.”

“Sans, where are you?” It’s Blooky, with a serious tone in his voice.

“O-oh! Um, Blooky, why do you ask?” I stutter, sweat beading on my skull.

“We need to talk, right, now.”

“Uh, I can’t I-I’m b-b-busy.”

“Sans, I mean this. Where the hell are you?”

“I-I can’t tell you th-that, I-I can’t. I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

“Whatever!”

He quickly hangs up on me, leaving me in disbelief.

I tremble with mixed emotion, the thought of what Blooky will say filling me with an icy dread. I press my hands into my face, curling back up into my little tight ball that is my only salvation and sanctuary. I begin to cry for like, the one millionth time, in one day, my head aching, and Grillby rubs the top of my skull, trying to hush my cries. It will never end, will it?

“Why...?" I sob pathetically, loosing one of my best friends, "Grillby, I can’t take it anymore!” I grieve, shaking my head, “I hate my life! Grillby, I just want it to end! I just want my life to end-”

“NO!”

I blanch, cowering away when the pyromancer yells at me, big tears still rolling down my face. The bartender grabs me by the hands, taking them in his in his, his figure trembling with dismal, mourning over my despair.

“Sans,” he says in an unsteady mummer, the shimmer from the beginning of tears in his amber eyes, “I know you are hurt, I know you need help, but I won’t let you do that. I won’t let you take your life. Not like this, when you’re so young, and so full of potential.”

I shake my head, and I suddenly feel something inside my skull snap.

“Grillby, listen,” I speak, my voice coming out smoother than I have anticipated, “Weeks ago, I met a man that I didn’t know, well, only knew for one night, but that clearly wasn’t enough. I was tricked, and manipulated, into letting a stranger touch my once virgin body in such an intimate way, and you’re right; Oliver did know what he was doing to me. Mettaton did know that he was trafficking my body to some creep who gives him money to find him new ‘toys’. And Mettaton knows that, upon inviting me to his party, I would end up sleeping with Oliver because he is just my type. Even if I went back and started over again, I’d still sleep with him, because I didn’t know who he really was until the next mornings; all I saw was this hot guy, who dressed the same way as me, a hot guy, who dyes his hair and has piercings and tattoos, and likes the same things as me, and has the most beautiful, hetero chromia eyes. All I saw was the guy who told me how much he loved me, and how he promised me that he would make me forget about my eight horrible years with my brothers on the streets.”

I sigh, looking at Grillby’s golden pools, before persisting on my story, “And I know that that was irresponsible of me. It was capricious of me, and immature to tell him how me and my brother were on the streets, and how I accidentally killed my mother, and how my father abused me because of it, how I allowed Ollie to touch my soul. How careless of me, to opening up myself to someone, who I thought loved me-no; who specifically and explicitly said he loved me throughout our whole night together, just to convince me to have sex with him. I often thought of myself as a smart, quick witted person, but I of course have a chink in my armor like everyone else; I give in too quickly to opportunities of love. I’m too quickly to give into those bubbly feeling inside me, from the looks that people give me like that, those compliments, when people say they’re in love with me.”

I lower my eyes, finally confronting my innermost demons and flaws, “And, deep inside, I’m fragile, I’m lonely, and I need help. I’m scared. I’ve put up this tough front, for my brother, so he doesn’t have to worry, and he has a strong role model to look up to, and… to also convince myself that I will no longer be weak. Because I’ve allowed myself to become weak when I’ve lived with my father, and I can no longer tolerate my weakness.”

I let out a weighty breath, that was a heavy as a stone. “But when I’m alone, at night, I cut myself, and that’s weak. Hurting yourself, and letting people get to you, and putting up that front is weak, in my eyes, and in my standards. And so then, when he yelled at me in the morning for pointing out his wrong doing, and I’ll admit, I did say some hurtful things in the moment of it, because he caught me off guard, making out with someone the morning after he slept with me. I’m so inane, and awful, for going home and cutting my wrists, and then feeling good and relieved about it. I’m so asinine, for walking out on my friends, on Blooky, because I felt too guilty about slitting my wrists. I felt too ashamed to enjoy my one hundred days of no self-harm, knowing that I lied, so I just stayed on the roof, alone and clearing my mind. But then this morning, weeks later after our first talk, I…”

I trail off, heat rising into my cheeks, beryl blush covering my face when my voice comes out of my throat… “And then, last night, I had a… wet dream and… it was… Oliver having sex with me again,” I shake my head, “which is just so frivolous to think that I would have such a dream about the man who did all those awful things to me, including taking advantage of me, and essentially prostituted me with Mettaton’s help. So… I wake up, and sure enough, I’m aroused from my dream- kind of ironic, I thought I was asexual, since I felt no sexual urges towards humans and monsters alike but I guess not. So, I figure that I can’t go to school like that so I… um… partook in self-pleasure… and…” Grillby squeezes my hands reassuringly, coaxing me to go on, “And I forgot to lock my door- or I was just too caught up in the moment to be bothered to- and Papyrus walks in on me, and now I feel more shameful than ever, having to explain to my little brother, what he saw his big brother doing to himself. I don't… I didn’t… get to… um, ‘finish’ in the morning either, so it’s on my mind all the time I went to school, and the whole time I was waiting in the nurse's’ office for you.”

My mouth trembles, and I wipe an eye socket, “And to think, just today, I’ve exposed myself to my little brother, let everyone in the entire school know that I’m in heat, tried to convince you to have sex with me, and ended up touching myself on your bed? Grillby I am a superficial impurity of the very definition. When I expect so highly of myself, with such good morals, to see myself revert back to this primal, being who relies on no though and only carnal instinct just like the rest of society. To follow the same aspects of those fucking ads that portray people as mindless sex husks, and to turn into a mindless sex husk? I can’t fault anyone except myself at that turn, because I have control! I could choose not to sleep with people, I could choose not to touch myself, I could choose to have standards! But, just like everyone else, I give into my body, and what it tells me to do, and because of that, Grillby…”

I stand up and take my hands from his, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, “...And because of that, I am not allowed to call myself a person.”

"Sans, don't be ridiculous," Grillby pleads, fiery tears welling up in his eyes his hands clenching at mine, "You're  _are_ a person! You  _are_ allowed to call yourself one; don't be afraid of your sexual nature, and don't suppress it anymore than you have! You're just new to this and you need to learn and you should let me teach you. I was a teenager with questions once and believe me, I still have them but, you shouldn't have this world view on it; it's unhealthy." 

"You don't understand, you don't understand because you don't know how it feels to have every one of your choices lead you to depression. You don't understand how it feels to always lose" I shake my head solemnly, no longer having the power or energy to stop the tears that fall from my eyes.

***

I lay in Papyrus’ bed with him, stroking his head as he sleeps, comforting him after he had another nightmare. This, time it was about the time we almost got stabbed when we were on the streets; it was this homeless man who was fighting us for a can of chicken noodle soup we stole. He had cut my little brother on the cheek, and I got so livid and pissed the hell off, I must have thrown him halfway across the city with my magic, totally ruining his whole life. But hey, we had some dinner and a weapon then!

I rub the cheek that that horrible man had cut, caressing it with my thumb in circles, feeling the small indentation of the scar on otherwise smooth bone, and I think ‘What kind of lowlife would go after a few kids anyway? What a jackass.’ I see Papyrus smile in his sleep from my ministrations and I smile back at him, not slowing down any more than I already am. I love my little brother so much, I would do practically anything for him; I love him more than any other family member I’ve had. I look out of the open window, a subtle breeze originating from out, the glass revealing twinkling stars, a restful neighborhood houses, and the striking sliver of a crescent moon against the solid black backdrop. The delicate noise of the chirping crickets and croaking toads rise up in the summer night, calming whatever restless nerves that I had during the day. I look back to Papyrus, the one I live for, and I feel my soul flutter with joy; even though it definitely won’t ever be a romantic one, I think I have the strongest relationship with my little brother. I know for a fact that I will stick with him to the ends of time and the earth; that I will be there for him through thick and thin. I honestly and wholeheartedly believe that I would have committed suicide long ago if I haven’t had brought him along with me, and I have mixed feelings about that. Would he have been happier if I left him with dad as a little child, and not have moved him along on my treacherous journey to find peace away from my abuse? If I had left him, would Gaster start taking out his anger on him? I feel sick about my little brother locked up at home and all alone with nobody to talk to, and receiving constant beatings from our father with no one to protect him. Absolutely sick.

“Sans?” I pick up on the soothing voice below me, and look down to my brother, his eyes open.

“Hey,” I whisper quietly, “What are you doing up? You got school tomorrow.”

“I know, it’s just that, you look sad.”

“I’m not sad, Paps,” I mummer, “I’m just thinking.”

Papyrus shakes his head and pulls me into his chest, and hugging me. Even though there are mostly negative aspects about being sixteen and only four foot ten and having an eleven year old brother who’s six foot three, there is one thing that it’s good for; hugging. I snuggle into his hold, sobbing out a thank you.

“No, thank you Sans. You’re the best brother ever!”

I’m on the verge of tears as a bury myself even farther into my brother, shivering in his support crying out, “Thank you Papy! I love you!”

“Love you too, Sans.”

***

I tinker and mess around with my pen, pencil, and eraser, lifting it up in the air and twirling them around with my magic. I’m sitting on the roof again, a week later, messing around and practicing my magic on inanimate objects; I’ve gotten to my prime of manipulating people a long while ago, being able to control and bend the body and soul of any monster or human around, but I’ve always had trouble from the lifeless. Maybe it’s because those things don't have souls that I can latch onto, I can only latch onto the matter of those objects. Even so, I am the strongest monster from all of the underground, even more powerful than Asgore, and W.D. Gaster; but I don't tell anyone that, I probably never will because I wouldn’t look forward to all the fame and responsibility. Half the population wanting to shower me with flowers, and the other half in knives. Heh, what an ordeal, being showered in knives.

I smirk to myself at that thought in a rather sadistic way, causing my magic to dissipate as a result. Damn, that’s my problem; I need to stay absolutely one hundred percent focused on my levitation, or else I’ll totally fail at it. I sigh. I’m bored. I mean, I could get down from the roof and go try to make friends with Blooky again, but like that’s going to happen honestly, I’ll never forget what he told me earlier today:

_“Hey, Blooks,” I wave over to Napstablook, grinning, “How’s it goin’”?_

_“Don't call me ‘Blooks’,” he says without looking at me, voice dripping with venom, “Only my friends call me that.”_

_Ouch._

I feel a single tear roll down my face, just from the still raw and fresh memory continuing to burn on my soul, like salt in a wound. I’ve never felt so shot down, so utterly stepped on. To have a best friend call off your friendship in such a dismissive tone that sounds nothing like him. No offense, but he’s a little bit of a pushover, allowing his boyfriend, Mettaton to do whatever he likes to him and to other people, and always turning the other cheek when he stirs up some shit. It’s tragic really; just because of a stupid party, I’ve fallen into a new pit of despair in such a short time span of a little over a month, my misery bringing forth new incisions on my once healed wrists, the ivory bone once marked with subtle grey now shows an inflamed and nasty rust color. Bringing forth cuts that don't cry and scream for attention, like a vain person that doesn’t get their way, but brings forth cuts that hopefully search for and discover a relief that’s different from the social norm. A moronic party that turns out to have nothing but hollow, meaningless promises of fun, happiness and joy, only promising the regretful one night stands and the toxic taste of bitter alcohol at the back of your throat, the taste of the person who promised you love and hopes, and dreams lingering on your tongue, overstaying their welcome.

I curl up into a little tight ball, holding my backpack close to my chest, closing my eyes and pretending that it is a version of Ollie that actually cared about me, a version of Ollie that has no flaws and keeps me safe from harm, a version of Ollie that loves me for who I am, and not for my body, not for just my private parts. My eyes screw up as I drift off into a restless, painful, agonizing sleep, full of regrets and nightmares.

***

“Get up,” an angry voice shouts over me, fracturing me from my rest.

I flinch, my eyes snapping open, wiping the drool from my chin. I can’t see exactly who it is, from the glare of the sun behind them, silhouetting the figure like an eclipse. I scramble to my feet and look up, to see Blooky- *cough* excuse me, Napstablook because only his friends can use his nickname remember?- standing before me hands on his hips. Before I could get a word out, he slams me up against the door that leads to the roof, gritting his teeth.

“You are not moving,” he hisses threatening me, making me recoil in fear, “Until you fucking tell me, Sans, what the hell happened that night.”

The white irises of my eyes tremble slightly, my mouth quivering. “I-I-I d-d-don't…”

“Oh my god… _SANS!”_

Tears stream down my face; I’ve must have driven him to the edge because I haven’t heard him talk this way to anyone ever. Not even to the people who bully and harass him for being gay or for being a robot monster.

“Look,” he grits his teeth, eyes narrowing, “This is your _last_ chance to tell me what happened to you that Friday night at Mettaton’s party. This is your _last_ chance to redeem yourself. This is your _last_ chance to convince me to be your friend again. So don't fucking blow it.”

I instantly break down from the interrogation, too weak and spent to put up anymore fights against my friends, against my enemies, against life. So I deteriorate into the shallow, flimsy person that I am, the words, the story spilling from my mouth. I tell Napstablook everything while reliving everything from that night, for the one millionth time, and it doesn’t get any easier. I’m bawling, tears coming in floods now, describing Oliver(fuckface), describing how he took advantage of me and how Mettaton basically sold me to this creep without my permission, how we went back to his house and had sex, and how in the morning he discarded me like I was less worthless than dirt and found out he had more than two people he was sleeping with. How all of that made me end up cutting myself and purging, how I got sick from the guilt and couldn’t face him for weeks because I was just so full of shame. How I went to Grillby all those days on end and how he helped me. How I’ve thought about suicide, how because Ollie had sex with me I’ve started my heat cycle and been suffering through it, how I can’t stop thinking about sex because of it.

I describe and tell him every little detail I could possible think of that had happened. I really just want to die right now and in all honesty… if Napstablook wasn’t pinning my shoulders to the closed door, I would run and jump off the roof, and fall to my death, and no one would know, because I would be a just an ordinary pile of dust.

I look up to the robot, and I see a disgusting look on his face, like it’s all the negative feelings that someone could ever feel in their lives and it turns my stomach. Horror, guilt, terror, dismay, empathy, regret, disgrace, blame, sorrow, agony… all contorting into this one, hideous look on this one face, and I’m the cause of it.

He suddenly pulls my hand and in a shaky, murderous whisper he grits out, “Sans, come with me.”

I immediately obey his command from that fear striking voice, and I’m dragged down the stairs that lead up to the roof, squeezing my backpack tightly to my chest in anxiety, having another flare up.

What’s going to happen?

We are in the hallway, filled with highschoolers that horde the space, impatient to leave for the day. Blooky pushes them aside, ignoring their harsh comments and continues to lug me around the building, and I can already feel the enriching, and enthralling emotion of high school drama afoot( I’m being sarcastic). Shit is about to go down, I can feel it and I’ll be in the dead center of it, guaranteed, whoop-dee-do! We see Undyne and Alphys flirting by some crowded lockers, and Blooks marches over to the women, and snaps, “Have either of you two seen Mettaton?”

“G-gosh, Blooky, are you okay? Why are you yelling?” Alphys gasps.

“Whoa, down boy,” Undyne fumes, “What crawled up your ass today?”

_“TELL ME!”_

“O-o-over there,” the yellow lizard whimpers, moving closer to the warrior girl while pointing to the right.

I turn my head over to where she was pointing and saw yours truly, chatting it up with a bunch of upperclassmen-preppy-jock-assholes, and I feel my blood boil. Here we go…

Undyne hugs Alphys into her as Blooky pulls me over, a crowd beginning to gather around us, murmuring and whispering from the unfolding scene.

“HEY!” Blooky shouts to Mettaton’s group, standing up for me. The preps lookup from their mindless conversation about coffee and rap music, turning our way, to find seething robot starring Mettaton down through narrow blue eyes.

“Oh, Blooky _darling~”_ Mettaton chirps, giddily, “Baby, come here~”

"How _dare_ you pull that shit on Sans!" 

Mettaton stands his ground, narrowing pink eye shadowed lids and raising a brow, pursing his lips, “Oh? I have no idea what you’re talking about sweethear-”

I feel Blooky’s grip on my hand tighten, and he swings forward, punching Mettaton in the face… you see, I don't think you understand the earth shattering significant importance of this fact; Punching. Mettaton. In. The. Face… Mettaton! The most popular person in the whole school! Just got fucking decked, like laid out! And I have to admit… it was sweet.

Mettaton shivers on the ground, mechanical whirring sounds coming from his crooked neck, a sizable dent in his right cheek, in which he held. Yeah, we definitely attracted more than a sizable crowd, more like the whole damn school. Some of the teens were looking in shock, some in amusement, and some egging on the fight, but no one trying to play hero and break it up, but I get the feeling that everyone wants to see this; to see the fall of an empire, more specifically Mettaton’s empire.

“ You know what you did, bastard! And don't you call me any one of those damn names again,” Napstablook continues, kicking Mettaton while he’s down, making him gag on shock and lack of air. “Because I’m breaking up with you, _cunt.”_

Well good-god-golly-damn, holy shit, I can't believe that just fucking happened; well it's cool, it's not like I needed to be popular anyway. Before I know it, I’m being pulled along again like a naive child and out of the school, leaving behind all of the glaring eyes of judgment, as well as a heavy stifling weight that was pressing down on my chest and suffocating my happiness.

-Chapter End-


	5. Heartbreak Five: Model

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read my story, left kudos, or commented! It is all appreciated and I can't wait for the next few chapters of this story, things get really interesting from this chapter on. I know that the last few chapters have been a lot of exposition and build up but it's gonna pay off with chapters 5-10 :)

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“Blooky I know, you told me fifty times already.”

“Sans, please forgive me, I’m so sorry!”

“Blooky. I said I forgive you fifty times.”

“I should have punched him at least *sniff* fifty more times!”

“Well, yeah, that we can both agree on.”

We were sitting in the robots room, on the floor, Blooky’s arms wrapped around me, while I sit in his lap. Alphys Undyne and Muffet and Alphys are totally quiet after hearing the story that I’ve told for what feels like the one millionth time, and of course wasn’t any easier. Alphys and Undyne are quite sympathetic towards me, even crying a little bit, and rubbing my back to soothe me but Muffet is totally closed off from the four of us. She sits quietly in the corner, playing with her black and purple hair and assorted silver jewelry, knees drawn up to her chest, five arms wrapped around both of them.

I look over to the goth and back to Blooky, nodding to him and he nods back.

“Hey, Muffet,” I rasp, my throat still sore from crying, “Come here with the rest of us.”

The spider girl looks up with her multitude of shiny black eyes, and comes over, crossing striped and ripped stocking legs, not able to look me in the eyes, so I speak up.

“Look, I know, how you feel about this whole thing, and I know that you’re not a very emotive person, because I’m like that too usually.” I pause, trying to search for the right words, “But, I just want to let you know, you shouldn’t make the same mistake as me, you don't have to close off from everyone, because we’re your friends.”

Muffet looks up, tears brimming in her eyes like twinkling little stars. I drag a skeletal hand through one of her twin tails and let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know I’m being the world’s biggest hypocrite right now, basically telling you to do the opposite of what I did. But, we can all overcome this right?”

No one answers and I chuckle. “C’mon, guys! Throw me a bone!”

As if an earthquake had ripped through, everyone was on me, hugging at me and wailing, tears streaming down their faces, and I just sat there, confused as to why this triggered everyone to jump on me.

“That w-was the first shitty pun you’ve t-t-told in a long ass time, skele-shit!” Undyne sobs, pressing her head into my chest.

I wrap my arms around her in return and saying, “Oh Undyne, quit your… blubbering!”

The warrior girl looks up at me, an annoyed look on her face, teeth gritting. I let out a nervous laugh, “Heh heh, too much?” I let out a breath, hugging Alphys and Muffet close to me, “But seriously, I can’t ask for better friends than you guys, I’m so happy right now.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I smile; and it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t to trick people; it was genuine, it was actual joy instead of joy masking sorrow.

“Thanks Blooks,” I grin, “Thank you so much, for giving me another chance to make thing right.”

“I-I just wish, that I’d have done it sooner!” The robot, says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, it’s fine. It’s okay,” I shrug, “I’m mean, I don't blame you; I… I was a douchebag about it…”

“Sans, you weren’t a-a douchebag,” Alphys rubs my shoulder, “Y-you were just afraid of what our reaction would be. But you don't have to worry, you can tell us anything.”

I smile and mummer a thank you, and Blooky suggests playing video games, like old times, getting out the beanbag chairs and putting them in front of his TV. We all got on the chairs, and began to pick through the PS4 disk boxes when Muffet leans over to me, and kisses me on the cheek, making me flush a deep blue.

***

I lay in bed, my body shivering and buzzing with arousal, a small fire burning within my lower stomach and crotch, making me whimper and quiver. Even though I so badly want release from the waves of heat that occasionally wrack my bones, I won’t give in; I won’t give in and masturbate, I want to prove to myself that I am strong, and that I can get through this. Even though it’s been going on for about a week now, Grillby was right; it is letting up and getting so much easier to bear through. Before, my body was totally in control and I couldn’t stop myself, and now, I can discipline myself, I can hold back my lust and wants, and that gives me back a sense of pride, and well being.

But… I couldn’t help but bite my bottom jaw before swiping my tongue over the materializing mark, at the thought of the way Muffet kissed me earlier today. I know it was just a sign of friendship, and adoration, but… the way she did it, and the fact that I know she likes me, gives me a funny feeling in my soul and metaphorical stomach, like how fuckface gave me that feeling back when we first met. Am… am I falling in love again?

I groan; I can’t sleep and it’s three in the morning. I slowly and quietly get out of bed as to not wake up Papyrus, grabbing my phone, and wonder into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ketchup from the cabinet and walking outside, closing the screen door and sitting on the front steps, taking a swig of the sweet condiment. I stare up at the silver dotted sky, and the waxing gibbous suspended in place, clouds floating by nonchalantly.

My mind wanders back to Muffet again, and the way she feels about me. Could we date? Am I even into women? I blush profoundly, as my mind plays out a fantasy of where we both lie in a big cozy bed, pleasuring each other, our mouths brushing together as our tongues slide against one another, our hips rocking and rolling in sync, our bodies becoming one…

Oh crap… I’m doing it again! I’m giving into my baser, carnal instincts again, that shallow, basal, side of me that I don't want to believe exist. But it does, and in fact, exists, and it makes my heat worse than it already is another rush of warmth washing itself all over my body, and nestles in my lower abdomen, hot and festering, and I groan quietly. I shake my head and drink more ketchup and look at my phone to clear my mind, and find that Blooky had texted me, saying that: on Thursday, meet him in the art room after school, he needs some inspiration. I simper, replying with: why would you ask me for help? I don't have an artistic bone in my body!

I get another text from Blooky:

Blooks: lol

Blooks: But you are coming, right?

Me: yeah, of course, i really owe you one after all

Blooks: What are you still doing up?

Me: i can’t sleep

Me: what are you doing up

Blooks: The usual, laying on the floor, feeling like garbage

I chuckle to myself.

Me: lol same

I sigh, so thankful and in debt of my friends who always come through, even at my darkest of times. My friends who are there through thick and thin, and spur me on to keep going through life; them, Grillby, and Papyrus are all I really need in my life. Uncle Broadway- no offense- is honestly just a stash of money who drops by with a few bucks every once in awhile, and I have had the feeling for around a year that he is not related to me and my brother in any way, shape or form. But without him… we’d both probably be turned to Dust. I get another text from Blooky: Are you okay? I feel myself choke up a bit, my eyes looking to the stars above, and then sweep over the houses of my neighborhood. I texted back: yeah, I am.

Blooks: I’m sorry.

Me: you don't have to be

Blooks: Sans, I love you, thank you.

I feel wetness on my cheeks and I touch my face slowly, without haste; tears. I’m crying, and I can’t help it. Is it tears of joy, or is it tears of sorrow? My body is so conflicted with itself for this past month that I can’t tell feelings apart anymore, it’s all just a muddle of everything someone could possibly feel, and it all spills from my eyes, coating my phone screen. I wipe the device on my pants and text back:

Me: Blooky, you give me the inspiration to continue in life. Yesterday was the day that I learned to feel again, because of you and everyone else. Thank you so much for standing up to Mettaton for me, I know how hard it must have been for you to do that. I love you too.

I rarely ever use punctuation or capitalization when I text because I’m so lazy that I often can’t be bothered to use it, but now, I’m serious, and I want to let him know that I really mean this. I wait for a few minutes for him to text back, laying on my back, my phone on my chest, my arms outstretched on the patio. I take a deep breath and stare up at the sky, my gaze long and fixed on up above. So pretty…

I get a buzz and check my phone, looking at Blooky’s message:

Blooks: Sans, you may have forgiven me but I will never forgive myself. I’ve never felt more pushed down, than when you showed me your new cuts, and I feel like I’ve contributed to some of your self-harm. I want to make sure you never have to go through something like that ever again, and I want to make sure you’re safe.

I smirk deviously and tap away at my keyboard:

Me: this is gay

I wait a couple of minutes before I get a message.

Blooks: True, but do you have to ruin the moment?

Me: yes

Blooks: *sigh* I love you.

I smile sending, love you too.

***

It’s now Wednesday, and things are definitely… different, and by different I mean totally bat-shit insane! First of all, Blooky is guarding me with his very life, as if I am a helpless damsel in distress princess and he’s my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue from the evil dragons and wizards- a.k.a the bullies (yeah, I know). Yeah sure, I’ve been getting much more hate and attention than usual, ranging from being ‘accidentally’ pushed into lockers and getting notes such as “Don't slit your wrists lol” and “Kill yourself, faggot!”shit like that; but hey, people will be people(although it hurts me a little bit, not much but it gets me to the point of being uncomfortable). And every time Blooks had caught it from one of Mettaton’s goons, he drives them away, because even though they indeed are goons, there just a bunch of little bitches on the inside, where it counts. He started treating me like a dainty little child too, forgetting that I’m the older one of us; he holds my hand, and carries my stuff, and holds open doors, and forces me to sit in his lap at lunch while he protectively throws his arms around me while I nonchalantly eat a turkey sandwich or something.

Sure, it can, and does get on my nerves a bit sometimes, but it comes from a good place and I will admit… it does do a thing for my heat cycle. I don't know why but this more dominant side of the robot increases my heat to the point of me definitely noticing a difference. It churns my metaphorical stomach and lower pelvis in the most pleasurable of ways, and fills me with delightful hospitality, and I’m not sure if it’s me talking or my cycle.

Muffet has definitely been friendlier to me, often stealing hugs and little pecks on my cheek and a began to wonder if she’s being affected by my heat as well, as she is much more affectionate. Ever since she saw me with Oliver *cough* fuckface, she had ignored me, probably knowing that she had no chance with me, but it now feels like they’re fighting for my attention and my love subtly and low key. Which is indeed a problem because I kind of… got a bit of a crush on both of them. Ugh, I’m so terrible!

Blooky, I’ve known him ever since I’ve enrolled in this school in this timeline, and I’ve known him for such a long while in the other alternate universes too, and the same for Muffet. I known them for pretty much the equal amount of time, and now that Frisk has so considerately and selflessly destroyed her reset key, the world can no longer be reset, and the other saves cannot be open, and she did it all for me and… I’m so grateful. At last, I don't have to look at the other dreaded timelines because those don't matter anymore, those have ended, and now, this one will continue on forever. But that means, I have to focus on this one, and this one seems to be headed straight for drama… teenage, hormonal, high school, bullshit, melodrama. I feel like I can only get a real breather at night, when everything is quiet, and I can relax, and calm down. But know I’ve got to decide, I’ve got to choose between two best friends whom I love dearly and whole heartily. Maybe I shouldn’t choose either one of them, maybe I should just choose to stay single for the remainder of my days… geez this really can’t get any worse.

I close my locker, to be greeted with a gentle, warm hand under my chin, an index finger lifting up my jaw to look at them, it’s Blooky. I can feel my cheeks heating up, and my cycle making my lower pelvis warm. I would have looked the other way to hide my blush, but my face is held in place, my turquoise blossoming even thicker on my cheeks. His hand is so warm and soft, the android flesh that Alphys gave his robotic body resembling a human’s so well, and I lean into the touch, looking up into his blue-grey eyes.

“Hello, Sans,” He coos to me sweetly before bending down to just hover over me, and then… kissing me on the forehead, making me squeal in surprise.

“B-B-Blooky?” I gasp, eye sockets going wide, my ivory eyes vivid “Uh-um-ah…”

He does it again and the words catch in my throat as I feel a thrill travel all over my bones. I undoubtedly have an enormous crush, and loving infatuation with one of my best friends. And I have the feeling that he has one on me too.

“Are you okay today?” He asks, a tint of ruby gracing his cheeks.

“Uh-uhm-y-yeah,” I stutter, rubbing the back of my head, filled with anxiety, “S-s-still walking m-me to c-c-class t-today?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sans,” Blooky says, taking hold of my hand and lacing our fingers together, making me flush even deeper. He takes my binder and my notebook from my hand and carries it at his side, walking me down the hallway. I can’t help the grin that pulls at my mouth, the feeling of holding hands making my soul feel a thousand times lighter. I look up to him to find him looking down back at me, his usually sad eyes shimmering with delight, his silicone hand gently squeezing my skeletal one.

Heh, heh, kind of a weird concept ain’t it? A sentient ghost inside of an android robot and a midget skeleton who can teleport and use magic and has crippling clinical depression fall in love in high school… the perfect romantic comedy, now in theaters near you.

“What’s so funny, Sans?” Blooky questions, amused at my giggles.

“Ah, it’s nothin’ Blooks,” I chuckle, “I was just thinking to myself.”

We arrive at my class and we stop out front of the door when my crush hands me back my binder, and pulls me into a hug. I allow a content sigh to escape me, and with my free arm, I hook it around his neck, pulling myself into his embrace, hugging in back. He holds me there for… a bit too long and I chuckle, trying to pull myself away and only resulting in his grip tightening; he’s so cute.

“Um,” I whisper, tapping the android on the shoulder, “Blooks? You can let go now, heh.”

“O-oh!” he jumps away, slightly embarrassed, “S-sorry.”

“It’s cool.” I shrug, glancing up and our eyes meeting, and I smile gently, my index finger rubbing my chin. Should I…?

… Yes, yes I should.

I stand on my tiptoes, my hand hooked around the ghost’s neck pressing down mildly on his neck and murmur, “Blooky, lean down, so I can reach you.”

I see a twinkle in the blue of his eyes as he angles down to me and I arch my neck, flutter my eye sockets shut and press my teeth to his silicone cheek, giving him a soft skeleton's kiss. I pull back and see that he was looking incredulously at me, eyes wide and red in the face. Was that a bad idea? But I thought that he was leading me on! I thought that he’d like it!

“J-just don't be late for you class!” I flush hotly, running into the classroom, holding my binder to my chest in a vice grip.

***

“So… now what do I do?”

“Measure out fifty milliliters of distilled water.”

“And next?”

“Mix it in the bicarbonate solution.”

It’s chemistry class right now, and the task is simple; run a lab on how diluting a bicarbonate solution affects the the growth a plant life; easy. And Muffet is my partner for this lab, as we always are, but this time, it’s hard.

Conventionally, she and I would just chat and take notes and finish our runs with time left to spare, conventionally we would be making jokes and laughing it up while we pour chemicals and tested acids and bases on certain minerals, conventionally… she wouldn’t be trying to flirt with me and seduce me. But this is how it is today and she knows it, and it damn near makes me want to explode, and the worst part about it is, I know that she’s doing it on purpose, the crazy bitch. She intentionally pulled her hair back into extra tight twin-tails instead of letting it hang straight, just so she can reveal more of herself to me. Today she was wearing an off-the-shoulder crop top that’s two sizes too tight and a fucking push up bra to make her cleavage stand out and accentuate her breasts, but you can’t trick me, little miss Muffet, you may look like you’re a D cup right now, but I know that you’re a C; you’ve told me that one time when we were playing truth or dare at your birthday party. And to top it all off, a pair of acid wash short shorts that looked a little too good on her, the fabric squeezing her in all the right places…

(Stars, did I really just mention that? Yeah I did; the world really is turned upside down because usually I wouldn’t even notice.)

And the worst part of it all, it does absolute wonders for me and my sexuality, and I can’t help it. The spider girl’s spell is working; I’m totally falling under it! And after all me and Blooky went through this pass couple of days, learning to cope with the new changes in our lives? You can’t be serious.(Yes I can.) Who said that?

“So for the next solution, do I add more or less water Sans?”

“Less.”

“Ah, I see.”

Muffet, you have seen for the whole duration of the thirty-six minutes we were working on this damn project! That’s what I would have said if I wasn’t focusing so hard on making sure I didn’t drool all over the table, or straining to keep my hand away from my crotch… or Muffet's… assets for that matter. This was going to be a long class period. At least my heat cycle is almost just about done, so the musky scent is masked by the body wash and cologne I use. But the goth working besides me isn’t helping my problem either.

“Okay, it’s done!” Muffet chirps as I look over the trays of solution and plants, and I sigh, alleviated.

‘Well, at least now I can go on my phone now and distract myself from her tits.

***

Lunch time rolls around and for once, I’m kind of glad that me, Blooky and Muffet don't all share the same hour, so I don't have to worry about being pulled in two different directions all at once. Thank god. At the table, I sit next to Blooky, his arm wrapped around me in a protective hold, warm and soft as I gently begin to doze off despite all the chatter around us.

“S-s-so are you two l-like a thing?” Alphys asks politely, looking between us.

Indigo blooms on my cheeks as I look up to Blooks with questioning, snowy eyes; now would be the perfect time to really define if we have a friendship or something a little more than that. The android looks to the lizard, and then back to me, smiling, “If only Sans wants it to be that way.”

Shit! Why do you guys have to put everything on me?

I chuckle nervously, beads of sweat rolling down my round skull as I stutter, “Uh-eh-heh… m-m-maybe? I-I don't kn-know.”

“So let me get this straight,” Undyne grins incredulously, throwing her hands up “you two are acting all lovey dovey, hugging and holding hands and kissing each other on the forehead and the cheek, and you say ‘you don't know’? C’mon man, give me a break; you two have been friends for how many years now? It’s about time you two really got close.”

Is it about time we got close? Should we date? I feel Blooky’s left hand on my right, entwining our fingers and pressing our palms together. Maybe… we should…

“We… um… might.”

Undyne laughed heartily wrapping an arm around Alphys and catching her off guard, saying, “C’mon, Sans, that’s not good enough for me! I need a yes or no answer!”

“Um, Undyne,” Blooky glowers, “Let’s just wait until Sans makes up his mind okay? He’s been through a lot this past month and couple of weeks, and is probably a little disoriented from all this. Let’s give him a break alright?”

Undyne sighs, defeated, “Alright, alright, I’ll cut shorty some slack,” she turns to me and gives me a toothy grin, “But do you wanna hang out later some time? I’ve got some new video games for my PS4.”

I shrug, “Sure, why not?”

I abruptly feel Blooky’s hand on my knee, rubbing and caressing there, causing heat to resonate in my cheeks, turning them a light marine. I reach my own hand from under the table and lay it with his, lacing our fingers together. Yeah… this is definitely a nice feeling that I want to indulge myself in.

***

“You doing better today, kid?” Grillby sits down next to me, sliding a bottle of ketchup my way. It’s after my shift, the last one of the night and as always, me and the bartender are the last two people to lock up; I don't know why all the other employees here are in such a hurry to get out, this is the best time of day for the diner. The quiet, the calmness, the lack of hustle, and also even if you’re an underage worker, Grillby might give you a little sip of alcohol if you’re lucky.

“Yeah, much better,” I grin, genuine and actually happy, “I haven’t cut myself in the past week, so that’s something to look forward to.”

“Yes, it is,” the pyromancer nods in agreement, adding on, “I’m so proud of you, Sans.”

I shrug bashfully, my eyes flicking to the floor. “What do you mean? I just did what I’ve always done.”

“That’s why I’m so impressed Sans, you are so easily able to break you’re vicious cycles and bad habits, kid,” he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with his own hair before he takes a drag, exhaling smoke and I chuckle a bit at that; I always thought that it was pretty cool. “And look at me. I’ve been trying to stop smoking for more than ten years, and tried everything; I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on every type of nicorette, patch, electronic cigarette known to man and monster. But here I am, still smoking away; well at least I’ve gone down from a pack a day to about ten or twelve a day.”

“Well that’s a good step in the road to recovery,” I smile, “And besides, people become addicted to smoking, and that makes it hard to stop. I don't really have that kind of excuse for cutting myself.”

“But it’s still an addiction right? It's still something hard to get out of once you start, and something that embarrasses you to talk about around other people, right?”

“Well yeah, but it doesn't bother me as much as it has before; as long as it's mentioned to someone close to me, like you, I don't really mind talking about it.”

“Yeah,” the bartender agrees, taking another drag from the cubeb, “ people may look down upon it, but it’s our necessary means of relief. It may not be good, but it's relief.”

“But it’s still an addiction right? It’s still something hard to get out of one you’ve started, and something that embarrasses you to talk about around other people, right?”

“Well yeah, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it has before; as long as it’s mentioned to someone close to me, like you, I don't really mind talking about it.”

“Yeah,” my boss agrees, taking another drag from the cubeb, “people may look down upon it, but it’s our necessary means of relief, no matter how life threatening it may be.”

From that moment on, I realize that me and Grillby have more in common than what I previously imagined; we both have that social anxiety that we stifle out with deadly intoxication and torment, ripping out the entrails and viscera of our emotions that society hasn't gotten to yet, finishing off our mental states of emotion so the only thing that is left is nothing, insipid hollowness that allows us to get through our broken and unforgiving lives. There is someone else like me, there is someone who can’t only relate to what I’m going through, but has lived it themselves; and because of that, I’m ready to take the next step in trust with him.

“Hey Grillby,” I whisper, folding my arms on the table and resting my head on top of them, “Um, I really need to talk about this to someone, and I think that you’re the best candidate out of everyone. But you can’t tell anyone, you have to promise me that.”

“Sans,” he pulls the fag from his mouth with one hand, and rubs my head with the other, making me purr lightly, “You can trust me with anything.”

“I know Grillby, it’s just… this topic makes me kind of uncomfortable.”

“Then take your time with it Sans.”

“Well… it’s about my sexuality, and dating, and people at school that I kind of like; stuff like that.”

“Go ahead.”

“Um, so… do you know how I’m best friends with Napstablook and Muffet, and how I’ve known them for the entire time I was here?”

“Yes.”

“So… like… they uh, both have crushes on me, and want to date me.”

“Ah, god, I know this…”

“Uh, yeah and the thing is… I kind of… feel the same way about both of them too.”

“Sounds like to me you’ve got yourself a love triangle, kiddo.”

“Yeah, and I’m in the middle of it. Grillby,” I turn more towards him to face him better, “I wish that I was straight. Or even gay, so I can only go with one or the other,” I tuck my face into my arms to muffle my vacillating voice and flushing cheeks, “but I know that I’m at least bisexual now, because I have romantic feelings for a boy and a girl. It’s all so confusing.”

The pyromancer is quiet for a moment, letting it all soak in, his demeanor shifting dramatically, parts of his flames burning a deep blue. He must be deep in meditation, thinking about what to say next. He says my name, but then stops, eyes casting off to the side, taking long breaths of his cigarette as I wait in anticipation. “Sans, look,” he says, still rubbing my skull, “sexual orientation and gender identity can all be very confusing at first, and I’m not about to tell you what it should be, I’ll let you decide that for yourself. But I do believe you’re pansexual, and those are just my thoughts.”

Pansexual huh? I heard Alphys use that term to describe me, and I made a joke about cookware or something, but I guess she was right. “So,” I start, my eyebrows pinching in confusion, “what does that mean?”

“It means that you don't care about the gender identity of the person you are attracted to; male, female, agender, trans, what-have-you. You are most attracted to what the person has to offer, other than sex, like their personality, what they like to do, their core beliefs, morals, standards, hobbies, things like that. You love the person, not the body they reside in.”

“So… I’m not shallow after all?”

“Oh, Sans, of course not. You know, for your age, you are quite a layered and intellectual person; you’re more interesting than some of the adults I know. And that makes you even more of a person. Sex is part of being a person, kid, and you shouldn’t worry; one day, after your hormones stop fluctuating and even out, you’ll be able to control yourself better.”

“My heat cycle is just about done so that at least is good,” I close my eyes, feeling a bit tired. “Now, I can think straight, and think of what I really want without pleasure clouding my judgment. But… who do you think I should be with?”

The rubbing on my skull stops, and I open my eyes to find Grillby laying his head on the bar top next to me, amber eyes hooding his amber eyes half way. “Sans I’m not going to decide for you who you should be with. That’s your choice and no one else’s.”

“Nah, Grillby *yawn* , that’s not it; I’m just asking who would you think would be the best choice for me? I mean, both Blooks and Muffet are some of my closest friends, and I don't want to let either one of them down.”

“Well Sans, in that case, if I were you hypothetically, I would choose Muffet.”

I allow this to soak in, fathoming the thought of going out with the goth, playing out a reverie where we’re holding hands, hanging out in each other’s rooms, and going on dates all the time; it sounds nice. I sigh, azure complexions littering my cheeks as I think about… her. “So… why do you choose her, Grillbs?”

“Well, I was thinking logically; since you’ve been with a male, we already know that you have romantic interests in men, so maybe, to test out the theory of your bi, or pansexuality, you should try to be with a woman as well, or a different gender.”

“I see,” I say solemnly; I don't really like how, mechanical and and emotionless his reasoning sometime is, because naturally, I’m quite an emotional person, even though I don't often show it. I usually rely on my head, don't get me wrong, but for relationships, I like to follow my soul.

“Do you not like my reason Sans?”

“N-not really… it’s just that, well, for relationships, I like listen to my feelings and my heart.”

“Yeah, I understand, but be careful, because that could get you into trouble.”

“Believe me it has but… part of me is actually… kind of thankful for that; don't get me wrong, I hate what happened me, I hate what I’ve done to myself but it has brought me closer to my friends, and it’s brought me closer to you, and Papyrus, and I’m thankful for that part. And now, I know who my true friends are, and I know who actually loves me,” I lean up, and rest my chin on my hands, toying with the the bottle of ketchup, “Does it make me slutty Grillby? That I fall in love with two of my best friends a month and a half after I lost my virginity?”

The pyromancer is quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “I don't think so; there’s many other people who qualify for that, but not you. You’re just discovering yourself is all, so don't feel bad about it. Don't feel like, you’ve done something wrong, kid, quit kink shaming yourself. You probably don't even know what your kinks are yet anyway.”

I sigh tapping my fingers on the bar top again, still unconvinced. “I don't know, I just feel bad about it.”

The elemental gives me a small, sad smile and rubs my shoulder, stating, “Sans, don't stress yourself out over it too much kid, and besides; dating isn’t what makes you a slut, it’s sleeping with them and just because you date someone, doesn’t mean you have to have sex with them. You can be with Muffet or Blooky, and _still_ have a loving relationship without sex but make sure both you and your partner agree on how to handle it.”

“Okay Grillby, but,” I yawn softly, “I think I’m gonna head out now; I’m gettin’ tired.”

After I get up, I don't have time to take a step before I feel strong, warm arms wrap around me from behind, squeezing me as I hook my hands over my boss’ forearms in return, closing my eyes and swooning into the loving hold.

***

I’m lying in my room, sound asleep, the quiet of the night and the darkness of my room soothing and calm, my pillows and blankets complacent and inviting, the silk and wool a lovely combination of softness and warmth. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in such a long time like this; it usually feels like I’ve been awake for a million years straight, but now, I feel replenished and serene. And on top of that, I’m having a good dream, which for me, is unheard of and tenuous, but now, I’m experiencing a wondrous chimera that totally surrounds me and my mind, an imaginary world where me, and Papyrus are outside on a sunny day, fishing for coy, the wind blowing around us in our quiet utopia. The sun is bright, the grass is green and lush, the flowers are blooming and the birds are singing, our poles are cast in the clearest of blue crystal waters, still and gently rippling, and my little brother has the widest of smiles on his face. So cute.

But suddenly, I hear a click and a squeak that doesn’t belong in my dream world and I look up at the sky, and it’s fading away, then down to my baby brother, who has a scared look on his face, so I hold him tight, his rough overalls digging into my bone.

“Sans,” I hear a soft yet high pitched voice from the crack between my bedroom door and the frame, “I… I had a scary dream, can I stay here tonight?”

I crack my eyes open wider, to see Papyrus standing in the middle of my room, on the carpet, hugging a worn teddy bear close to his chest. But something is off; why is he so small, like he’s only one or two years old? And why is his voice so high?

“Come on Papy,” I whisper, beckoning him over to my bed by lifting up the blankets and turning on my side… but… why is my voice so prepubescent as well? The little skeleton happily bounds over to the bed, his orange footie pajamas pitter-pattering quietly on the floor below him. As he crawls into bed, a realization dawns on me; right now, I’m about seven, and Papyrus is still just a babybones so that means… we are back at our old house...… with dad… after mom died. My soul drops in horror, my eye sockets bolster to wide dull pools, and I begin to sweat, yet at the same time turn ice cold. And...… it’s night time...… which means-

Before I get to finish my thought, I hear the front door slam shut, and a ghastly set of noises come after; *thump*, *crash*, *thump*, *crash*, *thump*, *CRASH*!

My soul pounds and lurches in my chest and I glance down to see my little brother staring back at me with void, black eyes, hollow and wide and I jump.

“HE’S BACK,” he says, eyes going impossibly wider, voice sounding absolutely disgusting; imagine if a meat grinder whose core job is to scrape together intestine and bowels was given a voice, “AND HE’S OUT TO GET US. SHE IS TOO.”

*Crash*, *thump*, *crash*, *thump*, *crash* *thump*! The sounds are right outside the door, along with a stench that smells of roadkill and rotted out experiments gone wrong wafts through the cracks in my door and makes me scrunch up my whole face in abhorrence, bile rising in the back of my throat and tears welling up in my eyes, making me gag. My little brother clings to me like a life line and despite all the creepy stuff happening right now, I hug him back anyway. I look down at the carpet and find random organs chopped up and mixed in with black, red, and green sludge and I quickly pull up my legs, the sight of the strewn about pink, grey, and red making me panic and yelp. I quickly hid Papyrus and I under the blankets forming a protective cocoon around him with my own body.

“Sans, I’m scared,” he whines, voice back to normal, but I hush him; I don't want that devil to find us. I hear sickening laughter, right in my ear socket and I turn stone cold; it’s all over. The horrid stench is so close now, that uncanny voice making me unconsciously shiver, and I feel a hand on my ankle, and I freeze.

Everything happens so quickly, it’s frightful; Papyrus ends up getting thrown against the far wall with a blood curdling *crack* that makes me wail in shock. I get slammed against the opposite, but instead of landing on drywall, something soft catches me, and I gasp, confused for a second, but I then feel hands curling around my arms, extending them from my sides, and a knee wedging up between my legs. Before I can react, I feel liquid dripping viciously on the top of my skull, and I look up, instantly regretting it. Eyes, mouth and nose are vacant from the mask of hell, there are only holes infested with worms and oozing with blood as well as other fluids I don't want to know about. It is the face of evil. It is Chara. The face contorts and I look down, so I wouldn’t have to see the horror show, and the human holding me laughs, a gruesome, deathly laugh that sounds more like a toxic mixture of living things dying, and coughing up phlegm. And I don't know which is worse, the thing behind me, pinning me down, or the thing in front of me, boring holes into my soul; W.D. Gaster standing over me, staring me down, an anomalous, black, inky mass that has taken the shape of a mangled fetus mixed with black sludge. In the midst of the horde, an enormous, white face, filled with cracks that resemble eyes and a mouth shifts restlessly in the black organs in such a slow, flexing way, that it makes me sick to my metaphorical stomach. It’s like it’s a separate, living thing among all the other and that makes me queasy.

I’m so lost in the disgusting wretchedness of my father, that I don't realize that a tentacle had extended from its body, and forced its way into my mouth, slick and writhing, and I gag as I feel it go down my throat. No. Please. Not this. But it was this, and I started crying, my seven-year-old body shivering and jerking at the assault. I feel more long intestines, thick and thin, grip at my clothes ripping them off and leaving me naked.

I let out muffled screams, my magic not being able to work under Gaster’s own spells, his slick, viscous hand twisting around my soul, claws digging into the supple organ, making stars of agony flash before my eyes; I can’t believe this is happening.

“No, stop!” Papyrus squeaks from the corner but almost instantaneously, is silenced yet again, being slammed to the wall, and this time, he doesn’t make a sound. Another digestive organ wraps itself around my throat, and between that one, and the one inside it, I can only breath through my nasal cavity, being gagged from both ends.

Another organ bends and curves into my left eye socket, and I inhale sharply around my gag, but that’s nothing compared to the horrific feelings that I sense down below. More appendages and feelers morph around my body, catching my knees and pulling my legs apart, and to my repulsion, my entrance for some reason is conjured, despite me not feeling the least bit aroused, and I’m totally lost in odium.

With my one good eye, I look away, just in time to feel a mammothly large girth penetrate me- no! No I don't want those things inside me! Ugh, I can feel them squirming and writhing on my inner walls, bloated, clammy, and thick. I gag around the worm in my gullet, tears and snot running down my face, and that’s not even the worst part; Gaster starts speaking to me, moaning my name and telling me how ‘good’ and it’s…... horrendous. The long crack near the bottom of his mask opens, and a mortifying, reeking odor smacks me in the face, and it smells of nothing less than fecal matter and vomit and I’m forced to inhale it, or else, I’ll suffocate. When he opens his mouth further, something long crawls out, and I tighten up in response, feeling it drop on, and crawl up my leg; it doesn’t help that Chara is getting blood and inchworms all over the nape of my neck, making me cringe.

I throw up in my mouth when Gaster removes the long tentacle from my mouth and kisses me; the flavor vile and horrendous, the feelings of things crawling in my mouth and his tongue down my throat releasing black sludge making me cough. And it’s even more repugnant when he pulls back, leaving sickly onyx strings of gunk connecting our orifices.

“What a tight little pussy you have,” he coos, and I am forced to angle my neck away from the horror show, getting more revolted by the second, of something this ghastly trying to talk dirty to me, “And it’s squeezing your daddy so hard. That's a good boy.”

He thrusts the worm back into my mouth and I throw up bile again.

I can’t. This is so wrong. I look over at Papyrus, his eyes watering, pulling his pajamas over his mouth and nasal cavity. I feel so shameful. And then, I feel even more shameful when I abruptly cum… and I cum hard; the rush was sudden and unwelcome, my eyes shooting wide in dread; my body has betrayed me in every sense of the word. How could I experience something so pleasurable at a terrible time like this; it was disgusting but... it lasts only a minute and makes me briefly see stars, and that only makes my father chuckle-calling me his dirty little slut-, and my soul freezes up.

“Do you think that feels good? How about this, then?” A rancid voice cackles in my ear, hot sticky breath billowing in the crook of my neck, and I nearly vomit at the ministration that is done next; Chara swiftly grabs both of my wrists in one hand and brings her other hand down to my tormented vulva, and thrusts... her whole. Entire. Hand. Inside.

I scream, feeling myself tear and hearing my ectoflesh snap, and pop, feeling gelatinous fluids and bits of tissue roll down my thighs, and of course the two monsters start at an absolutely punishing pace, Gaster’s clawed hand squeezing even harder around my soul, and I feel it crack a little bit. The tentacle inside my eye reaches the back of my head, and leaves a sticky trail there, and I wail around my gag. I feel an appendage, rather long and thick wrap around one of my elbows, pulsing and rippling before forcing my arm back in the wrong direction, and snapping it back, just as I feel a much too harsh pinch on my swollen knot. I can’t even scream right now, with my left arm dangling at a ninety degree angle the wrong way, and my clit mangled and bruised. When will it end? When will it end? But it's all worth it in the end I guess, since these two freaks are focusing their attention on me instead of my dear little brother.

The two hideous creatures finally, after what feels like ages, pull out of me, leaving me slump and limp against the wall, crying and whimpering softly while using my one good arm to wipe away my tears as my vagina ripped and mutilated to shreds throbs (what little is left of it) painfully, worms of all kinds infesting me like parasites, blood, sludge, swampy cum and other unknown discharges oozing out of me, as I gasp out; I’ve never been in so much pain and so degraded, even so, I’m glad that my rape is now over. But I hear a chuckle above me, followed by the grinding throaty noises of laughter.

“What are you doing relaxing, Sansy?” Chara cackles, blood pouring out of her maggot infested eyes, “We’ve just gotten started~”

And before I know it, a thick, bloody looking worm, shoots out, and goes down my throat once again, cancerous and deadly.

***

I shoot up out of my bed, my mouth parted in a noiseless shout of horror, sweat caking my whole body, my hands firmly planted to my sides and bones rattling. I’m back in my own room, the late night early morning quiet and peaceful besides from me as I look frantically around the room; no black sludge, no Chara, no W.D. Gaster, and no tentacles or worms, and I’m back to my my normal age of sixteen. My nasal cavity is all stopped up from the immense amount of crying and sobbing, my white irises rippling with despair. I glance down the front of my shorts; no conjured cavities and not a scratch on my body, my soul not at all cracked, and my arm unmutilated. There’s absolutely no way that I can go back to sleep after that; I’m too traumatized and it’s three in the morning, and I don't want to rest here so I get up and walk out my normal bedroom in my normal house.

I’m more than paranoid right now, my magic EYE glowing, igniting the hallway that leads to Papyrus’ room, rubbing my shoulders and whipping my head around every five seconds or whenever I hear a quiet noise, like a snap of the old floor boards, or the hooting of an owl outside. My head is reeling, and the hallway seems longer than usual, but I know that it’s all in my mind, the sounds, the movement out of the corner in of my eye and in my peripheral vision; it is all my imagination but it’s still scary. The beating of my soul roars in my ear, and I feel like I hear footsteps, but I’m not sure if it’s fact or fiction. I finally arrive to my brother’s closed door, tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. I turn the knob gingerly as to not cause too much noise, and I take one last overly suspicious glance over my shoulder before I slip into the room.

Yeah, everything is back to normal, Papyrus in his race car bed sound asleep, no longer a babybones, a look of content happiness on his face and I smile at that, despite my nightmare. I step over to his bed and gaze down at his restful expression, my soul feeling slightly uplifted from the content of my sibling. I rub the soft scar on his cheek and lean down to gently press kiss on his forehead, and he grins in his sleep.

I sigh, and mutter, “Papyrus… I had a scary dream,” I take one of his hands in mine and sit at the side of his bed, slouching against the wood and pulling my knees up to my chest, burying my face into the crook of my arm, my voice cracking as I begin to cry, “Can I-I stay here tonight?”

***  
It’s Friday now and I hardly got a wink of sleep last night, but at least the school day has ended and now all I have to do is visit Blooky in the art room and help him with his project; then I can go home and sleep for the rest of the day, and night, well, if I can. The nightmare still has me riled and shaken up, but being around Muffet helped me take my mind off the horrid dream by treating me as if we are actually in a relationship right now; kissing me on the cheek, holding my hand, and giving me an extra amount of spider bakery goods more than usual. Thankfully, it all goes unnoticed by Napstablook, who treats me with the exact same love and affection, still kissing me on the forehead and walking me to my locker. I love every second of it.

I stroll over to the art room, and gingerly step through the door, taking in all the artwork and sculptures that range from hyper-realism to surreal and dreamlike. So much talent… and so much clutter. I see Blooky over at the farthest table with his back turned to me, sketching out something on a piece of canvas board surrounded by varying colors of acrylic paint. “Blooky?” I ring out, catching the android’s attention and getting a bright smile from him.

“Sans, you came,” he grins, the light from outside hitting his hair and eyes in such a way it almost seems like they are glowing, “Come over here, and take a seat.”

“So how am I supposed to help you?” I briskly walk to him, setting my backpack on the paint dried and stained desk top.

“Sit here,” the robot responds, pulling out a high stool, angling his canvas in front of it. Since I’m so small, I kind of have to climb onto the chair, pulling myself up and resting the palms of my hands casually on the back of it next to my rear, my legs swinging back and forth in front of me.

“So how is this suppose to help you, if I’m just sitting here?”

“Well, for the assignment, we are practicing realism and drawing in real life. We’re focusing on people to, so for my project, I want you to be my model, Sans.”

I blush, a light aqua staining my cheeks, and I fidget in my seat a little bit. “B-b-but…” I stammer, “I-I’m not that… visually appealing o-or good looking-”

“Nonsense, Sans,” Blooky shakes his head, giving me a patient smile, “I think you’re beautiful, beautiful creature hon. Truly stunning.”

He steps over until he’s positioned prior to me and looks me up and down, and my flush thickens more intensely; he shakes his head when he looks down to my locked together knees, and gingerly reaches down, pulling them apart so one is opened off to the side, the other is facing forward, and then takes one of my legs and props it up on the highest bar of the stool bending my knee. He then poses my head so it’s ever so slightly cocked to the side, exposing the right face of my cervical vertebrae, and then begins to unzip my jacket.

“Ah, Blooky, wait-” I try to stop him but he hushes me, pulling down my hood to reveal my collar bone and part of my ribcage, then leaving it there. The android then pulls down my pants ever so slightly and I squeak, exposing the top of my pelvis. He backs away and studies me, not helping my blush at all and he grins. “Perfect, make sure you don't move, okay Sans? And leave your eyes half lidded like that. ”

I nod; at least he’s making me do what I do best; being lazy. I sigh, making myself comfortable while Napstablook sketches on his canvas with a brown colored pencil, the lead scratching at the textured material and making me hum in content at the subtle noises. It takes no less than five minutes before he gets out his brushes with cup of water, and begins laying down blue, white, grey, sunny bisque, black, and red paint on a piece of plastic paper. Under my lidded eyes, I glance down at myself, at my pose, and realize just how… strange it feels; for some reason it makes me feel special and extraordinary. Even though my friends and family(well, what I have of family left) always tell me I’m a truly unique, and remarkable, no matter who or what gets under my skin, but words could mean or lead to anything; words can mean anything or nothing depending on the person from what I’ve figured out. But Blooky… showing this… more lighter and delicate side of me that’s rarely seen anymore; that comedic, happy, joyful, laid-back side of me that’s all washed away by grief, sorrow, distraught, paranoia, and my broken past. And now, the good side of me is finally being truly highlighted and actually shown to me rather than spoken. I can’t fully trust what people tell me anymore because of what happened to me but… I feel like I can trust Blooky. He loves me… he wants me… and I love him and I want him too…but what about Muffet?

“Ah, Sans, I knew you could do it!” Blooky says, apparently adding the last few strokes of the brush to the painting, “You’re the only person I know who can zone out for two-and-a-half hours without the slightest twinge or bat of an eye; It’s truly remarkable how motionless you can be when you’re lost in your thoughts.”

Wow, so it was indeed longer than I expected it to be and I stretch, cracking my back, as well as a joke, “Yep, guess you can call me Lazybones.”

The android giggles, and then turns to the canvas, eyes glazing over his work with satisfaction, blue pools darting between me and the painting. “Would you like to see?” he whispers, his face lighting up.

I quickly nod my head, enthusiastically and anxiously to see how it all turned out.

“Okay, I hope you like it…” Napstablook grins, dragging out my prospect before finally turning the easel around and it’s… it’s…

It’s enough to make me cry. I can barely look at it, it’s just so… I can’t describe it. Do I really look like that? Is my face so… round and soft looking, my cheeks curving so subtly all the way down to my chin that ends in a point, the shading grey and light, ranging from hardly noticeable to hard and striking, especially in my eye sockets. My half lidded eyes in this picture make me look tranquil, docile, and sloth with an ever so modest hint of seduction and allurement. My pupils are also pristine, the ivory of my irises so shocking against the rest of the toned down colors of my bone, my smile soft and gentle; he’s even got the lines of the dark circles under my eyes, and the grin lines in my face, even though you can scarcely see them. He… even got that cornflower blue flush on my cheeks down to a tee, and it almost looks like it’s been airbrushed on, it’s so fair and faded that it blends in perfectly.

My smile looks… halcyon and meditative, something that happens only on extreme occasion when I’m legitimately at peace; not when I’m mourning or cracking jokes. Blooky also somehow made the exact shade of blue as my hoodie; persian indigo that complements the blush on my cheeks, bringing out the lights and hues. The white of my cervical vertebrae is bold against the almost black of the shadows in my jacket, and I notice a light dusty heather blue tinting my rib cage and I blush. That must have been my soul reacting…

My eyes wander out to my arms that are stretched behind me, and I notice that Blooky even got the detail of the cuts on my wrists that are exposed- yes, even the new ones. I see a particularly thick red one on my right radius and I pull up my sleeve and take a gander; yep, he even got my self inflicted wounds, but I appreciate that; most artists would probably try to avoid that sensitive of an element, but it’s part of me, and it shouldn’t be hidden away anymore, and I’m glad that he included it, even if it does represent my suffering.

I look lower and blush hard, staring at all the little minute details on my lower spine pelvis, my inter-vertebral disks, the crests of my ilium, the slope of my inguinal… all of it is perfect, and the soft folds of my sweatpants balancing off by adding more diversity to the layers of my clothing. I finally stop at the red converse on my feet- I would wear my house slippers but the school doesn’t allow that, I need “actual footwear” they said- and the color is perfect, and the seam lines are realistic, and the stool is so photo-realistic that I can’t believe it to be true. Every single line of the hard wood is seized here, and I have to look over the artwork and myself multiple times to get the just of everything. It captures me perfectly in every way, and I didn’t know that I had this side to myself; the side that everyone sees and the side that I always push away because it makes me feel weak. I get shivers and goosebumps of how it doesn’t just show my appearance but my character as well; this is so surreal and dreamlike.

And it gets even more dreamlike when Blooky comes over to me and holds my cheeks in his hand, staring longingly into my eyes. I return the look to him, my face flushing a gentle cyan, my knees rubbing anxiously together as I feel my soul flutter excitedly in my chest, my eyes drooping and clouding over with love. I feel I strange pooling sensation in my pelvis when he leans down close to me, his big blue-grey eyes mellow and affectionate, a smile pulling at his pink lips. I didn’t know when it happened, but it has; our mouths meet for the first time in a small, chaste, yet passionate kiss and I have to wrap my arms around his neck to keep myself from swooning. We pull back after what feels like an eternity, my breath hitches when Blooky glides his hands from my face, to the sides of my rib cage, and all the way to the summit of my unclothed ilium and I allow a small sound to escape my mouth to show my pleasure and content. The robot leans down and kisses me again, this time a little harder and a little more risque, so I take it even farther by opening each other’s mouths so our tongues can meet. I feel myself being lifted and then pushed briskly yet smoothly against the nearest table and before I know it, our tongues are wrestling and we’re both moaning; all of the desire we let pent up inside us, all of the love and feelings we developed over the years we’ve known each other finally erupted like an active volcano in this one setting.

While I’m focusing on sensually caressing Blooky’s tongue with my own, rubbing and sliding my blue appendage on his to show my devotion and infatuation for him, I feel an intrusive hand slide down the front of my pants and begin rubbing adoring circles of want into my arcuate pubic and my eyes shoot as wide as dinner plates and I fling my head back and moan.

“Ahuhn~ Ahn~ Bl-Blooky! W-w-wait!” I cry, pinching my brow together and pulling his hand from my pelvis. He looks up at me, mortified and he pulls away, whispering, “Oh, god, Sans! I’m sorry; I lost it! I'm so s-sorry!”

I let out a sigh and give him an apologetic smile, “It’s okay Blooks, it’s just… we’re in school, we can’t be doing something like this here.”

“Yeah, I know just… shit, I’m sorry.”

“Blooky would you like to… go out with me…?”

Shaking his head vigorously, the android gets a big grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes and I giggle. “You’re so cute Blooks. I’ve… been thinking that for a long time now…”

“Sans you’re even cuter~ And… I’ve never knew that you had such an erotic bedroom voice.” He pauses and smiles sheepishly, “and… I’ve always dreamed of touching you there… between your legs….”

“B-Blooky…” I blush madly, my entire face blanketed in bright turquoise, “...don't say such things!”

“Yeah, you really are the cutest,” Napstablook says thoughtfully, as if his mind is somewhere else, “Sans, please, come to my house, so we can work this all out.”

“Okay.”

We start to make our way out of the art room when I see something- or someone- dart out of the corner of my eye, making me turn my head slowly and carelessly to the side as to not alert my new boyfriend, yet fast enough to see a gloved finger making a come hither motion towards me.

“Hey, Blooky, I gotta go check something real quick, ‘kay?” I smile at him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before skirting the corner, only to get slammed to the wall and a hand slapping over my mouth.

My eye sockets shoot wide as dinner plates as I see Mettaton frowning down at me, the dent in his cheek still slightly prevalent.

“Shh,” he hushed, warning me to keep quiet, “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my Blooky?”

I clutch the robot’s wrist rather harshly, whipping it from my mouth before spitting a retaliation. “Piss off! I don't’ even know what you mean! We’re just friends.”

The class president clicks his tongue indignantly rolling magenta eyes under smokey eye-shadowed lids before saying, “Sans, honey, do you really think I don't know what’s going on? I have espionage all over this school, reporting to me the freshest, latest, gossip and affairs. Of, course I know what you and my Blooky were doing in the art room!”

I freeze, my soul taking a nose-dive for the worst, beads of sweat appearing on my forehead as a deeply blush. “How much… did you…?

“Oh, darling, all of it; from when my man was drawing you, until you two were almost fucking on the table, and from the look on your face, I’m pretty much right.”

I don't know what to say- usually I can keep my composure around these types of situations but to think that someone was watching us when Blooky had his hand in my pants? And then told it to Mettaton and possibly other people? “I… ah… heh, heh. Hasn't anyone ever told you it’s rude to watch?”

“Yeah, but whatever, I didn’t bring you over here to harass you.” He leans in close to me, resting his forearm on the wall and I glare up at him, my white pupils burning in animosity, “you don't want him, he ain’t for ya darlin’. He’s not the right man, and he’s gonna end up breaking your…” he taps a digit on my chest in time with his words… “Fragile. Little. Heart.”

I lurch away from him swatting his hand back. “Like you have any right to tell me who to date, after that fucking cunt you’ve set up with me at your party, okay? Besides, I’ve known Blooks for two years, and even longer than that; I think I know what I’m doing. He’s not like you and he’s not like Oliver; he’s someone special, and worthwhile… someone who’s actually worth my time!”

Mettaton shrugs, before waving me off, “Fine, do what you want honey, but don't say I didn’t warn you.” Before walking off, the android turns around, and gives me… a strangely sinister and knowing smile that makes my soul do a nervous flip, as if he could see into my future. “I can’t wait for the day where you come to me, crawling on your knees, telling me that I was right, and that you’ve been used and abused, and cheated on, and I’ll rub your back for you, then I’ll say ‘Yes sweetheart, I told you so.’”

He walks from the scene, his heels leaving clicking echos on the floor, his presence leaving me to my own thoughts. I don't say anything, my sockets completely black and hollow with unwanted thoughts before I walk back to Napstablook, who gives me a worried look and asks me if I’m okay. I hold his hand, squeezing it lightly before I look up at his face, finding an answer in the cerulean of his eyes. I smile gently, before responding with a quiet I’m okay. There’s no way someone like Blooky could hurt me; we’re so close.

‘Mettaton is just jealous’ I think to myself, ‘he’s just trying to stir up some shit because he envies me, and he doesn’t want us to be together. But then… then why… can’t I escape this feeling somewhere deep inside my soul and this voice warning me in the back of my mind?

***

“So… what would this mean for our friendship Blooks?”

“...”

We’re lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling in muse, judging the situation of our friendship becoming romantic. I can’t lie; I’m anxious about this. Anxious about putting my trust and certitude into someone again, to become partly dependent on someone again, and to love again. I bite my lower mandible apprehension, pressing my body into the android’s feeling his warmth on my bones.

“We would still be friends Sans,” he whispers, kissing me on the forehead, “We will still hang out, talk, lay on the floor feeling like garbage…”

I laugh at that cuddling in closer, resting my leg over his hips. “Yeah but, Blooky… I can tell by…” I begin getting tense, from bringing this up again, and my voice gets quiet “...when you, slipped your hand in my pants and touched me… well I can tell that you really want sex.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie; Sans, you’re so cute and beautiful and funny that sometimes I just lose my composure around you, and sometimes… I just want you so bad.”

“The thing about that Blooky, is I don't want just sex in a relationship like what happened at the party; I want a-a companionship, I want union and togetherness and love, not just lust. I really, truly have feelings for you, more than what fuckface ever had for me. So, if you’re willing to wait for sex for a bit, then I’ll be willing to be your boyfriend.”

Napstablook nods in agreement, saying, “Sans, of course I’ll wait for you; you’ve been through a lot and I get that you need to rekindle enough trust and certainty in order to have sex again, but I can I ask how long do you think you need to get comfortable enough our relationship to become sexual?”

I shrug the best I can in my position. “I don't really know, maybe a couple of months, three or four to be safe.”

Blooky nods in agreement, “As long as it takes Sans, I’ll wait for you,” he hugs me, lifting me so I’m lying completely on top of him, my head on his chest; I can hear all the whining mechanics and technology inside him and it’s quite soothing to me. “But don't you worry your pretty little head, I’ll be totally honest with you throughout our whole relationship, unlike fuckface.”

I giggle, feeling my spirits being lifted. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can look my boyfriend in the eyes, my legs swaying back and forth in the air, “So, I gotta ask you a question.”

“Knock yourself out.”

I blush a bit, a powdery blue dusting my cheeks. “So… I’m a skeleton and… you’re a ghost robot so how are we gonna…” I extend my index finger with one hand and make an ‘O’ with the other, lining them up and thrusting my phalanges in and out, evoking Blooky to laugh, his broad chest heaving up and down.

“Well however you want it, Sansy,” he giggles, “Don't you know Alphys created my body with the ability to have sex and feel pleasure, like both monsters and humans?

I burrow my face in his shirt, my face so hot it feels like it’s up in flames. “Heh heh...u-um… I guess she would. After all, I’ve seen her anime collection y’know?”

“Haha, yeah, she's strange all right!” he lifts my chin up and kisses my teeth, making my whole body tingle, “I love you, and I know you probably don't have the ability to say it back just yet, but I want to let you know that I love you so much.”

After he says that, we both lay there, the sun streaming in beams through the shutters, decorating strips of light on us. The only sounds in our world right now is our breathing, and shifting against each other’s bodies. I close my eyes and open my mouth; if Blooky truly loves me, than is really honest, then he’ll answer yes to my last question.

“Napstablook… when we make love for the first time… are you going to be there in the morning?”

Silence is cast to the winds when he answers immediately, as soon as the words leave my mouth, his response makes my heart soar, my mouth break out into a wide grin, and tears of pure joy run freely down my face.

-Chapter End-


	6. Heartbreak Six: The Haunted Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm back in action! :D

It’s about eleven thirty at night, the moonlight streaming in through the window, softly illuminating the shadowy figures in my room, the objects glowing gently. Along with the moon, the cooling winds of autumn drift with their invitation inside, and I can feel my bear legs being slightly buffeted and shivering in reply. I push away some of the homework, junk food, soda cans, and school work to make more room for Blooky and I as we fondly cuddled each other at the foot of my mattress, right besides the treadmill in the middle of my room (that has collected quite amount of dust, may I add). The ghost-android purrs as I nestle my cranium in the crook of his synthetic neck, one of his large, warm hands massaging my femur from the neck to the patella; with his other hand, he reaches up under my chin, tilting my face up towards his, and pressing a kiss onto my teeth, in which I gladly accept. It was a chaste, innocent kiss, that didn’t involve any tongue, and I greatly appreciated that. It’s been about five months since we’ve decided to start dating, and slowly, but surely, I’m beginning to forget about Oliver and the party; hell, no one ever even mentions him anymore, and I don't care one bit. As for Blooky, he has been a true friend, boyfriend, and trooper and has kept his word of not expecting sex for a while because of my psychological trauma. Of course we hold hands, and kiss, and even have the occasional make out session but I can tell when he wants to go further, but is holding back for me, so sometimes I’d  bite his neck, or please him with my hands… I’m not ready for anyone to touch me yet, after everything that has happened. Even with our heat cycles, I still refuse Napstablook, and I feel awful for that; and I can tell that it’s going to be one of those nights… 

“Sans, honey,” Blooky whispers, his deep, lake blue eyes staring at my sockets intently. I feel him sneaking the hand that was caressing my femur up towards my pelvis, almost to the point of ghosting over my crotch, “Can I?” 

Sigh. I knew this was going to come up. I’ve known it was going to be one of those nights when he came and visited me while I was working at Grillby’s, finishing up my last few tables. 

***

(About three hours earlier) I was cleaning up a table, setting the chairs back to where they were, and quickly decided to go back to sweeping up the front of the store. 

“Hey Grillbs,” I quipped, taking the broom and dust pan in hand, “I’ve been doing a pretty banged up job so far, yeah?” 

“What do you want from me Sans?” Grillby quirked a brow at me from where he was counting the cash from one of the front registers, flipping through the abundance of ones, tens, twenties, and fifties, “you sound like you’re looking for something. A raise?” 

I chuckle at the pyromancer’s response, his sarcasm always lifting my SOUL a bit. This is one of the reasons why we are such good friends. “Well, now thatcha mention it…”  

“Oh, just say what you’re gonna say, Sans,” the elemental monster chuckled, some of his flames flickering a light yellow to show his amusement. 

“Well, since we’re closed, may I take a little sip of that new bourbon you got? Looks expensive.”

Grillby chuckled, the sound of crackling flames deeply igniting in his broad chest. Running a gloved hand through his flickering head of hair, he counts up the last of the bills and puts them in the front pocket of his slightly greasy apron and hands me a twenty before attending behind the bar and beckoning to me, and getting out the bourbon and two short glasses with a few cubes of sparkling ice in each cup. He then gets out the new, tall bottle of bourbon that is the expensive new addition to the bar, pouring the deep chestnut liquid into the glasses only about of the quarter of the way for one, and half way for the other. 

“You’re underage,” the flame elemental chuckles, “so you’re getting the one with less alcohol in it.”  

I sit down on one of the bar stools and settled for the smaller  amount and wrapping my phalanges around the glass. “Well, at least it’s something, isn’t it?” 

Grillby takes up his half full glass, staring at it with his smoldering, amber eye lights and gently swirling the ice and alcohol around, “Yeah, it is something, isn’t it?” 

“What’s been bothering you Grillbs?” I ask, “you look like someone’s been smoldering your flame.” 

The elemental chuckles at that pun and then he sighs, a small cloud of smoke billowing from his mouth. “Mind if I smoke?” 

I shake my head, and watch him as he taps the bottom of the fag box and opens the top, slipping out an orange and white stick before sticking it in his hair, lighting it, and taking a long drag from it, before letting the smoke creep out from the corners of his mouth. “Kendall hates me,” he snickers dryly, coughing a little bit. 

“Hate is a strong word Grillbs,” I laugh a bit, keeping the situation light, “are you absolutely sure?” 

“Yep. I told her that she couldn’t date this boy who was a bit too old for her,” he shakes his head a nervous smile cracking his face. 

“How old is he?” I ask leaning in a bit. 

“Nineteen,” he chuckles again, his distressed voice also showing up in his demeanor, “he’s too old for her, and you know how I feel about Kenny seeing people in the first place; I don't want a repeat of the past, and I don't want her to meet a man like her father.” 

I go silent and tap my skeletal fingers on the polished wood of the bar top. “Well, I mean, he is too old Grillby, but you know you’re gonna have to let up and let Kendall become an adult one day. You can’t keep her innocent forever.” 

“I don't want her growing up too fast Sans,” the pyromancer sighs, “she’s so young.” 

“Then tell her that Grillby, you need to let her know how you feel about her dating; I think you should make her understand, no matter how much she insists that she’s mature, or that she knows what she’s doing, you know. But I think you should teach her about dating and you should teach her how to look for red flags in a relationship before something happens to her.” 

“Cheers to that,”  Grillby nods in consensus, holding up his bourbon. 

I bring my glass up to his, and they share contact with a high pitched *clink*. 

Grillby takes a long, obviously much needed swig of the alcohol, swishing it around his mouth before swallowing thickly, coughing out some of the vaporized booze. “Good shit, ain’t it kiddo?” 

I take my own gulp of the alky and break into a bit of a hacking fit; it burns on the way down even though it’s ice cold. I nod hastily blue tears watering up in my eye sockets, quickly covering my mandible, making Grillby burst out laughing when I say, “it’s alright.” 

That’s when the door to the tavern swings open and Grillby looks up with an annoyed expression. “Excuse me but we’ve closed fifteen minutes ago.” 

“Yeah, I know Grillbs, I’m just here to pick up Sans,” a familiar voice said behind me. 

I turn around and see Napstablook standing a few feet away in a black and white sports jacket and dark grey jeans. “Hey Sans,” he beams at me, “how was work?” 

“It was fine, but why are you here?” I pondered as he took the seat to my right. 

“I’m here to pick you up. It’s kind of late and I don't want you walking home through the city at night.” 

I laugh boisterously, “Don't you remember that I shortcut, Blooks?”

The android monster quirked the corner of his fabricated mouth in a sly grin and moves a hand down to my spine before gliding it lower and caressing my sacrum through my slacks, making me blush and shoot my pupils up to him in astonishment. 

“Well, I just needed a reason to come and see my boyfriend you know?” he murmurs, a light, rosy hue pigmenting his cheeks. He then leans down and kisses me me on the mouth, claiming my teeth rather roughly at the same time he gives my ‘ass’ a rather harsh squeeze. I can feel the room of Grillby’s diner fading around me as I flutter my eyes shut before feeling my pupils turn into little alabaster hearts. I shift and rub my feet and my knees awkwardly  together and grasp at Blooky’s shoulders as I sharply draw in breath. I can feel his other hand sneaking around and caressing the back of my skull, a finger drawing over each scar and plate that I have, the hand that was on my rear massaging with more vigor; quicker, and rougher-that is, until I hear an abrupt “ahem!” from in front of us. Oh, dammit; I forgot Grillby was here! I quickly lurch away from Blooky, a goofy wide-eyed wide-grinned  look plastered on my face, beads of sweat running down the sides of my skull- I can feel my hands twitching in anxiety as I meet Grillby’s slightly exasperated look, his brows pinched together and his smoldering irises glancing down at his watch. 

“You know I don't mind if you two express your love for each other,”  the  fire monster began impatiently, “but please. I don't want semen all over my restaurant after I’ve just cleaned,”  he cackles a bit, his flames sparking into a bright canary yellow. 

I couldn’t have been any more embarrassed, my face flushing into a blinding aquamarine as I pull completely away from my boyfriend who in turns smirks back at my boss, replying cunningly, “would you like to join or something?” he purrs. 

Even though I was humiliated out of my complete fucking mind from Napstablook’s actions and Grillby’s comments on those actions, the banter had to continue. 

“Oh I don't know Blooks,” he chuckles stroking his chin, “I think I may be, too hot for you-” 

“Okay, that’s great guys!” I laugh nervously, “come on Blooks! Let’s go.” 

“See ya, Grillbs,” my boyfriend laughs, waving to the pyromancer before I dragged him out the front doors, and into the autumn night air. 

“Don't ever embarrass me like that again!”  I meant for my voice to sound more snappy and  scolding but it came out as more as a pouty whine. 

The ghost monster laughs at me and tells me how cute I am before he rubs my circles on my back and leading me to his car. He holds the door too the passenger seat for me, and I shimmy inside before he shuts the door, and gets in next to me. He gives me a soft, pure smile and kisses me on the forehead.  

“You’d probably want to come over, am I right?” I ask him, smiling back. 

“Yeah, I’d love to Sans.” 

***  
“Yes,” I whisper, spreading my legs wider for my partner, “I think I might be in love Blooky, and… and I trust you.” 

“Oh Sans,” the android whispers, standing up and taking me with him before setting me on my mattress and settling on top of me, “I love you too, and I’m going to make you feel amazing. I trust you Sans…” 

I get that same feeling that fuckface had given me that one night that was almost half a year ago from now and I feel a sob rising in my throat and my voice cracks, “please don't leave me Blooky, please be here for me, please… don't leave…” 

“I’m not going anywhere Sans. I’m here for you, and I won’t leave.” 

He cranes his neck downwards and kisses me softly- innocently as I sigh into the adoring monster above me, wrapping my arms around his neck. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex- even though I’ve been continuously going through my heat cycles every two months, I’ve been masturbating, but it’s nothing compared to someone else’s touch, especially someone who I’ve had such an amazing friendship with. I curl my phalanges into the blonde locks of my boyfriend, as I feel his lips gliding down the sides of my neck and I let a soft sigh slip past my teeth. I gaze down at him as he unzips my hoodie, revealing my rib cage, spinal column, and boxers. He smiles down at me, softly letting his ocean blue pools trail along my bone structure under half lidded eyes; I like how his eyes hold love for me, and gently glide along my ivory osseous matter instead of raking at it with lust; it makes me feel safe. 

“You’re so beautiful Sans,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss and lick and nibble at my ribs. 

Oh… wow. I feel my face flushing and my back gently arching at the ministrations and I feel my eyes slightly lidding. “Ahn~ Blooky,” I moan as he gets closer to the ends of my ribs. 

“You really do have quite a lovely bedroom voice Sans,” Blooky sighs, his breath (from which I don't know where it originates from) ghosts over my spine and I quiver with excitement; I can feel my blue magic beginning to pool in my pelvis, hot and ready, already forming my genitalia with a soft, baby blue glow. He kisses me lower and I stop him before he gets to my pelvis. He looks up at me, and immediately gets taken aback from the look in my eyes, as the words sultrily ooze out my mouth. 

“You first, sweetheart.” 

He stares at me at first, neither aiding or hindering my advancement as I languidly, and gently flip our positions and move to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling down the denim of jeans and cotton of underwear. He’s already half hard, and even though I have no idea how robots get hard (I’m going to have to ask him that later) I don't question it and timidly lick the appendage, feeling my boyfriend shiver beneath me. I swirl my blue tongue around the head of his erection, and softly take it into my mouth, allowing my teeth to mildly graze the underside. I’ve been keeping my poor Blooky waiting for so long, it’s only fair that I please him before he pleases me. I waste no time dropping my cranium all the way down on the rather large and thick length, letting it hit the back of my neck, before bringing my head back up, swirling my tongue around his increasingly red tip, tasting the rather delicious cream that seeps out before quickening my pace on the down stroke. With this, Blooky is already sweating, his face totally flushed a pale red, his fingers curling up against the back of my skull when I play with his soft orbs. I glance up at him and see his lust-clouded eyes staring blankly up to the ceiling, his mouth slightly parted, releasing raspy breaths and deep sighs. Suddenly I feel the hand that was resting on the back of my head spread its fingers and pressed me down all the way, and I moan against my mouthful. Oh. God… Stars… 

“Do you like that?” he groans, his voice thick and syrupy with want, “do you like it when I force you like that Sans?” 

The hand forces me up back to the head, but unexpectedly, Blooky snaps his hips up into my mouth and I gasp, my head spinning and my heart shaped eye lights rolling up into the back of my head. I’ve forgot how damn good it is… Blooky continues at that mind numbing speed for several minutes until he whines his warning that he is cumming. 

“Ah, Sans. Sans, Sans…” he sighs, his whole being going stiff when he finally unravels and allows himself to finish with my name on his tongue, and I swallow every last drop of the wonderful fluid that fills my orfice. Some of it dribbles out of my mouth and onto my chin but I swipe it up and lick it clean before returning to my partner. 

“So how was that,” I smirk, feeling confident at seeing what I’ve reduced Blooky down to- a panting, shivering, blushing mess. 

“Fantastic,” he chuckles, before tilting my head up to his and kissing me deeply, his tongue swirling around mine in a passionate dance. He pushes off my blue hoodie, and I allow it to pool around me. I can feel him tugging off my boxers while he pushes me back down, and he glances up to me for permission, “this is okay right?” I smile and quickly nod my response before lifting up my pelvis and allowing him to slide off the final piece of clothing I have. “Oh… wow Sans,” Blooky gasps in shock, as his eyes rake over my pulsing and dripping blue member as well as my shivering entrance reflecting with wetness, “you have both? They’re so beautiful.” 

I shy away, shrugging as I blush, “well, two is better than one eh?” 

“Most definitely,” he smiles at me as he slides two fingers down my length and I whine, my teeth chattering and it’s not from the cold. I feel the fingers trailing and swiping up and down my slit, and I feel like I’m already ready to burst. It really has been a long time, hasn’t it? He finds my clit and I arch my back hard, and let out a rather loud moan. “Auuhn!” I breath, feeling him slip through the folds of my flower. To keep me quiet so we won’t wake up Papyrus who’s sleeping down the hall, he leans in and gives me a deep and luxurious kiss, drowning out anymore moans that I would have let escape. I feel the tip of a finger at my entrance and I wrap my arms around Blooky’s neck once more, tossing my head back and bringing his with mine. I spread my legs and relax my hips to let him smooth entry inside. I feel myself stretching and I cry into the kiss when he fills me, and starts pumping the appendage. 

“Ah~ Ollie~” Escapes my mouth before I can stop it and my eyes shoot wide open. Shit. 

I look up at Blooky’s face to see a completely crestfallen and distraught look on the others features, disgusted shock contorting his brows, eyes, and mouth, the harsh shadows not making it look any better. I can tell he’s not in the mood any more. 

“Blooks, l-listen,” I stammer, knowing that I've royally fucked up. Before I can finish my sentence, the cyborg shakes his head and rests a finger against my teeth, effectively hushing my anxiousness. He gently pulls his other finger out of my vulva and wipes it on his pants leg. 

“Shh, honey, it's okay, I understand. That just caught me off guard is all,” he says leisurely, like it's not a big deal, even though I feel like it is. “Look, I don't think you're ready for this yet alright?” 

I was ready to object but the finger on my mandible added a bit more pressure, and Blooky muttered, “let's cuddle instead alright?” 

With that, he slips my boxers and hoodie back on and I can feel my magic dissipate when he pulls the covers of my bed up and over us. I can feel him wrap his broad, long arms around me, pulling me in towards his chest; I can hear the sounds of machines and gears and devices whirling from underneath the silicone skin. I whimpered when he did this, groaning meekly an apology. 

He murmured softly that it was okay, and that I don't need to be worrying about that, and that he can wait for me. 

“But can I try with you again Blooks?” I whisper, knowing that he's still not completely satisfied and that he'll soon be looking for more.

I look at him and see him contemplating my offer before smiling down at me and kissing me on the mouth.

***

A light blue blush tints my cheeks and nasal cavity as I draw my mouth away from the thick, silicone phallus in front of my face, leaving behind a long strand of sticky teal saliva and foggy semen. My eye lights flicker from white ovals to hearts, not being able to make up their minds. I can feel myself getting weak in the knee joints, my femurs quivering under the hot, steady throb of arousal above. I can feel even more fluid staining my face, caking my bone with seed. Panting and huffing echoes in my cranium, ricocheting off the sounds making my soul hammer in my ribcage, the osseous matter reverberating because of it. I can feel a soft, warm hand gliding over my messy face, swiftly swiping up the still hot cum, and sticking a finger into my mouth, in which I eagerly accept, conjuring up my tongue one more to receive the reward to its fullest. 

“You like that, eh?” he growls sultrily at me, deep and dominating, making me quietly groan as my eyes fluttered at that, “do you like the taste of me Sans?” 

“Y-yes…” I whisper back, my body trembling in excitement as I slide my oral cavity off the appendage with a wet pop. 

“So eager… I wish you could see yourself honey; that look on your now filthy face, that slightly desperate look in your eyes… what a naughty slut you can be.” 

“Blooky…” I whisper, the dirty talk getting to me a bit more than what I’d like it to. It’s been precisely five months and six days since we’ve been dating, and we’ve both decided to get intimate in our relationship, confirming that it was around that time. Even though  I am not entirely ready, Blooky and I made a deal that he would be the only one being pleased, while I would be the pleaser. So far, he and I had plenty of make-out sessions and I’ve given him a hand job twice, and now, oral sex. It makes me feel good that I get to satiate and indulge him in his desires, but I know that he wants to indulge me in mine as well. 

Napstablook then gets a frustrated look on his features, and he sighs out, “I know you’re not ready yet, but I wish I could touch you too…” He leans back on the bed, and grabs a damp, warm towel, and he proceeds to wipe off my face and anywhere else his essence landed, as well as his now soft member. He takes a deep breath and adds, “I wish I can bring you that feeling.” 

“I know Blooks, it’s just… I’m just scared of being left again is all,” I try to reason, taking the towel from him and tossing it back on the nightstand, “I don't want you leaving me like how he did.”

The  android nods in understanding, and I get up from my kneeling position and crawl into his lap, pushing him down much to his delight then finally folding up over his warm, mechanical body- I can hear the soft, and tender whirling of his gears inside his chest, and that makes me smile. I feel his hands creep along my back, the fabric of my dark blue hoodie pressing down into the back of my ribs from the weight of his hands.  
“You don't have to be afraid of me hon,” he coos to me, “you’re safe with me, and I won’t let anybody get to you, okay?” 

“Okay,” I mummer back, looking up into his cloudy blue eyes. His eyes show trust and truth, and that’s all that matters to me right now; the truth. 

The truth and nothing but. 

“It still hurts a little bit too Blooks,” I mutter, completely ruined, “I… still have feelings-”

“Let’s try to not talk about that, Sans,” he butts in quickly, saving me the pain of admitting my emotions for Ollie, “let’s just try to focus on us, okay? Try to focus on what’s making you happy right now.”

I nod meekly, pressing even farther into his warmth, his safety, his truth… , “I still think about him though,” I add on as quietly as I said it quick, “It still…” 

“Hey Sans?” I hear a soft voice come from behind my closed door along with some knocking. Papyrus.

The door creaks open to a weepy skeleton in his pajamas and clutching at a worn teddy bear, wiping away tears from his eye sockets, “I had another scary dream.”

“Come in here, Paps,” I grin my bright, welcoming grin, “you can sleep with me tonight if that makes you feel better.”

My little brother walks in quickly and settles down in my bed. “Why is Blooky here Sans?” he asks, staring at the android. 

Before I can respond, my boyfriend interrupts quickly stating, “ah, it’s just a sleepover, Papyrus.” 

“Wowie!” he chins up, clutching his teddy bear with joy and excitement now instead of in fear, “I love sleepovers!” 

I quickly mouth a ‘thank you’ to Blooky before shifting my attention back to Papyrus, “yes, but it’s getting a bit late now Paps. I want to make sure you’re rested enough for school tomorrow.” 

My brother pouts, complaining, “but, the Great Papyrus is never tired Sans! I can stay up, and get up early enough for school tomorrow.” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you stay up and watch a little bit of TV if you want,” I complied, “but don't get any ice cream- it’ll give you an upset stomach and even more nightmares, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees before scampering off into the corner of my room, already flicking through channels on the remote. Sports, reality TV, drama, Game of Thrones, the news (filled with more info on hate crimes against monsters might I add), before finally settling on cartoons. 

“Let’s get some sleep Sans,” Napstablook suggests before laying back on my bed, shutting his eyes, and folding his arms behind his head and relaxing. I follow suit, but not before stealing a glance at the clock on the night stand besides the mattress. ‘12:24 am,’ I think to myself, ‘five months, and seven days.’  

***  
The next day rolls around and I scold Papyrus for staying up the whole night watching TV and eating an entire pint of double fudge chocolate ice cream. 

“Hah,” I breath, slightly exasperated, “I knew I should’ve been more restrictive-” 

“It’s alright, Sans,” Blooks hushed me quickly, “hey Papyrus, ya want some pancakes?” 

Papyrus rubs his tired, dark-circled eye sockets, chocolate ice cream smearing the corners of his mouth, “Maybe just a few.” 

I roll my eyes and walk from the kitchen and back into my room to get dressed, throwing off my worn blue hoodie and opting for a different one- a deeper, more navy blue one, and a pair of black athletic pants (even though I’m not athletic in the slightest).

A few minutes later I wonder back into the kitchen, checking my phone and being welcomed to the sweet scent of fluffy pancakes sizzling in the skillet. I reach into my pantry, pulling out a bag of coffee grounds that has a small measuring cup in it and some sugar. Stepping over to the dishwasher, I pull out a mug and the coffee pot setting the first item on the counter, and a second in the coffee maker, dumping much of the contents of the bag into the maker along with some sink water and turning it on. In the meantime, I scavenge throughout my fridge for some milk or creamer. “Hey Blooky,” I ask as I pull out what’s left of the creamer, “this is kind of a lot to ask for, but can you take Papyrus to the elementary school today? There’s some things I need to get done.” 

Blooky looks up from flipping the flapjacks, surprise written all over his face, “uh, yeah? That’s fine as long as I leave with him in about twenty five minutes.” He hands a plate of pancakes along with butter and maple syrup. “There ya go, Paps,” he quips, “eat up.” 

My coffee is brewed and I pour the cream and sugar into my mug along with the dark liquid and I take a seat next to my brother, who still has dried chocolate fudge smeared around his mouth. I reach for a napkin and hold his jaw stiff between my phalanges, wiping around his mandible. He squirms and frowns at the rough contact I give him and I chuckle. 

“Ya shouldn’t have done that you know,” I smile, “but I have to admit, I do find it pretty humerous that you’ve got yourself in such a sticky situation!” 

“Sans! No puns this early in the morning!” my little bro hisses at me, pushing my hands and the napkin away, “and leave me be. My pancakes are getting cold.” 

“Okay bro,” I snicker, deciding to leave him alone for now, “enjoy your breakfast, and don't forget to thank Blooky for helping you out this morning.” 

“Thank you Blooky!” Papyrus grins at the android, maple syrup now covering his mouth instead of the fudge ice cream, making the ghost-robot laugh. 

The robot walks over with two more plates of pancakes, setting one down in front of me and one in front of the empty chair that he ended up taking. I set down my coffee and mummer a thank you to my boyfriend as he quickly hugs me to his side, pecking me on the forehead- Papyrus is too busy scarfing down his breakfast to notice. “Will you get to school on time you think?” Blooky asks, watching me as my eye lights flicker in though, watching me as I bring up my coffee mug to my teeth. 

“Perhaps,” I hum, lost in thought, “I might get there right at the bell…” 

“Done!” Papyrus chimes, placing his plate in the sink along with his cup of drunken OJ. He quickly grabs his Royal Guard backpack and hurries out the door before I can tell him to stop. Blooky chuckles nervously, “Gotta go Sans. See ya at school okay?” 

Before he leaves, he grabs me by my cheeks and kisses me deeply licking at the inside of my mouth, making me moan into the endearment before pulling away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “You taste like coffee,” he smirked, eyeing his handy work that consisted of heart shaped white irises, half lidded eyes, a light azure blush, and a slightly agape mouth. He leaves me speechless as I watch him get out his car keys and walk out the front door, leaving me alone with my mug and deliciously fluffy pancakes. I look down at Blooky’s half finished plate, syrup lazily drooping over the sides of the breakfast pastry. I quickly clear my head and down my hot drink and wipe my mouth clean. Time to get to work. 

*** 

I turned on the light that leads to the basement of my house, walking down the steps, hearing the wood cry out and creak in objection to my weight. I get to the end of the staircase, my gaze on the workshop I’ve set up in the back area of the cold dark room. I stride over and turn on the little desk lamp and pull up my rolling chair to the metal table, sitting down and gazing over my work. My father has disappeared long ago, and I have no idea where the hell he went. I spread the rolled up paper out that was lying on the tabletop and set some paper weights on some of its ends. My eye lights dart over the equations, Wingding symbols, and sketches of the Machine, focused and wandering and studying.  And I have a feeling that this Machine has something to do with it. I remember how my father had an unhealthy obsession that consumed him and took him away from me and Papyrus. That obsession was with DETERMINATION; I have a feeling that if I can fix the Machine and fill it with the DETERMINATION substance, then I may be able to find Gaster. I’ve been studying this and trying my damndest to recreate the powerful mixture of LOVE and EXECUTION POINTS  to fill the travel mechanism and find Gaster, but it’s proving to be a bite that’s more than what I can chew. 

I can remember from my early, early childhood that I had witnessed my father sticking needles in himself, infusing DETERMINATION in with his blood, the blackish-red fluid seeping from a tube, through a needle and into his veins, his skull cracking and holes taking over the palms of his hands. I felt sick, I had my hands covering my mouth to stop myself from screaming- I knew that if my father caught me in the basement that I would get another beating… 

I sigh, the memory making me sweat as I turn on the Bunsen burner underneath a test tube filled with clear liquid. I watch as I flask begins to boil on the other side of the tube, Anti-Magic filling up in navy blue clouds- hopefully this will result in EXECUTION POINTS. I walk over to the Machine and pull off the white sheet covering it, my snowy white stare fixed upon the broken down and rusted levers, switches, buttons, wires, cables, motherboards, all along with unconventional systems, gears, and devices that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Perhaps not only that I’ll find Gaster, but, if I can fix this machine, I’ll find out what this whole Alternative Universe is about. 

Of course there are other Universes in the Space-Time-Continuum, but this one is throwing me off by far. You have the original UnderTale Universe, the one I’m from and the one that is dictated by Frisk in the Neutral and Pacifist RUN; there is also the one dictated by Chara in the Genocide RUN as well- I do know of other Sans, in Alternative Universes such as Underfell, UnderSwap, EchoTale, and as well as the many other timelines branching off from those Worlds, but, I myself haven’t ever seen any outcome like this. You have Pacifist- the ending where monsters will live on the surface, and Asreil would have been defeated by the human. You have the Genocide- where everyone is slaughtered in the end. The Neutral doesn’t matter to me. But this… is unheard of. In a normal timeline, I should be about in my late twenties- twenty-seven just about- Papyrus should be twenty-one. All of the monsters here now in high school- Undyne, Alphys, Napstablook, Mettaton- they should be around my age as well, but we’re reduced to teenagers! I need to find Frisk- 

I glance up, shocked to hear the doorbell chime, and a knock on the door. I roll my eyes in annoyance and turn off the Bunsen burner, throw the sheet back over the Machine, and stomp up the stairs, making sure to lock the way to the basement. Who the hell could it be? I sigh, holding the door knob before twisting my wrist and pulling it and- 

“What the FUCK are you doing here?” I hiss. I can feel my EYE wanting to ignite as I feel fury boil up inside my body, my SOUL getting tight in resentment. I can’t believe who I see standing before me. Pale skin. The metal of piercings shimmering in the sunlight. Tall, wearing all black clothes. Hair flipped to the side, dyed neon green and black. Eyes- one clear, ocean blue, the other, fawn hazel- heterochromatin. 

Oliver Eves. 

Fuckface. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy, his breath smelling like tobacco and gin, “that was a nice welcoming.” 

“Fuck you,” I spat, trying to shut the door but he already made his way inside, making me gasp. I clench my fists, eyeing him menacingly as he made his way around my living room and pulling out a cancer stick and lighting it, “don't smoke in my house. How did you even find this place?” 

“Ah, sorry,” he apologizes quickly opening a window and tossing it out on the concrete patio. Hopefully it won’t catch fire, “hey look,” rubbing the back of his head, “I came over to apologize to you. So, I’m sorry Sans.” 

“Get the hell out of here,” I almost shouted, getting fed up with his shit- he fooled me once, shame on him. I damn sure ain’t gonna let him make me say ‘shame on me.’ 

“And, I let go of all the other people that I was sleeping with,” he unfortunately continues, “that girl you saw me kissing, and all the other monsters and humans, because Sans,” he hastily walks up to me, grabbing me by my shoulders as I give him an incredulous look, “you made me feel something that night that I haven’t felt in a really… long time. Love. I love you Sans.” 

Before I have time to retort back at him, he presses his lips on my teeth and I intake a sharp breath of air- what the hell is happening? I would have summoned a Gaster Blaster, but, I was too caught up in the way our tongues moved and warped and danced together. I was too caught up in the feeling of magic rushing to the cradle of my pelvis and forming my opening and length. I was too caught up in my emotions rushing back up to the surface of my SOUL for Ollie. That night is all coming back.

“Ahhmph!” I whine into the kiss, my mind going hazy and it feels like an eternity before we pull away, and I look up into Ollie’s eyes, the sensation of swooning almost overcoming me, “Ollie~” 

“I know Sans, I know you want this, right?” he whispers, pressing a knee between my thighs, making me toss my cranium back and keen in delight. Quickly he lifts me and forces me to wrap my legs around his middle. He sweeps off all the junk on the coffee table and sets me on top of it, pulling my legs apart and begins running his strong hands around my inner thighs, and I try to stop him. 

“Oliver! We can’t do this!” I panic, trying to pull away from his grasp, “I-I have a boyfriend!” 

Ollie got a blank expression on his face; a hollow, deadpan look that made me hate him in the first place. But suddenly, that bored emotion turned into lust and hunger, as he growls down at me, “well, let’s hope that he doesn’t walk in on us, yeah?” He tears my hoodie and T-shirt off and rips down my pants and boxers- oh god, this can’t be happening. 

“Oliver, I-I can’t! I don't want to!” I shake my head from side to side, feeling tears well up in my sockets, “I can’t cheat! I’m not like you!” 

“Oh, Sans, you know you want this,” his voice rumbles in his chest, “you still want me- isn’t that true? Just look at how wet you are.” 

I felt sick to my metaphorical stomach when I feel his fingers slide up and down my slit, the lips parting in response and even though my eyes are screwed shut, I can sense that he is smirking. I feel I hot wetness around my member and I cry out, tears fleeting down my cheeks. 

“Ah-ahnn~! Ollie~” I sob, cracking open my eyes to see him slurping and sucking hard around my length, his fingers not leaving my dampening flower. My right hand finds its way clenching at my chest, right above my SOUL, my left hand finds its way coiling itself in Oliver’s unnaturally colored hair. I feel so many different emotions flood me, some of it being released in my tears and in my moans and howls and gasps. Regret, shame, humiliation, love, passion, want, yearning, embarrassment, and pleasure all course through my being and SOUL making me rock my hips faster, yet making the pressure to break away even stronger. All those feelings multiply tenfold when I feel hot, long, slender, fingers enter my dripping, aching entrance, and I clap the hand that was on my chest over my mouth, drowning a particularly loud moan. I can feel his thumb rolling, pressing, and flicking my swelling button, his fingers massaging my walls, scissoring, parting, thrusting, and stroking. Slightly above, his mouth bobs up and down my length, his tongue wrapping around it, stopping every once in a while to tease my tip, and his throat humming and buzzing, sending pulses and tremors through my sex organ- I can’t hold on much longer. 

I bite my bottom jaw, trying to get a grip over my body, trying to hold back my obvious bliss. I take my hand that was woven into the hair on the head that was working my pelvis in the most delicious way and dig it into the fabric of the cocktail table, the sharp tips of my fingers tearing and flexing into the fake, cheap leather as my whole body begins to tremble in burning, white hot pleasure. My face blazes with an electric blue, as I clamp my teeth down and pinch my brows together, moans and whines bubbling up in my throat and threatening to make themselves be heard; I can feel my orgasam building as sweat rolls down the sides of my cranium. I can’t help but let my eyes lights form into little ivory hearts as I feel the fingers inside me and the mouth on me quicken their speed, but still, I hold onto my pride and keep my voice silent. 

When Ollie notices this, he lifts off of my twitching penis, and smirks up at me a purr rumbling in his throat, “don't be like that sweetheart, let me hear that beautiful bedroom voice of yours” he coos, “here. How about this?” 

And with that, he instantly deep throats me and sucks on me hard at the same time he thrusts those two fingers inside me more vigorously than before, and squeezes my clit; from all of that at once, I unravel, my walls crumbling down, and I huge wave of pleasure crashes down on me like a tsunami. “Ahun~ AH! AHH! Ollie~ohhh!” I cry out, finally losing my battle, allowing my legs to fall open and for Ollie, and the euphoria he brings, to claim me. Drool freely runs down my chin, my tongue lolling out my mouth as I let my hands relax and rest on my ribs, as I tilt my head up, my fogged out eyes gazing sightless at the ceiling. My hips roll and jerk up into Oliver’s mouth and fingers and my eyes shoot open, feeling an all too familiar sensation about to burst inside me. I’m gonna cum. 

“Ollie! I’m-ah! I’m cumming!” I warn, fresh tears rolling down my face as my whole body begins to seize up and I can feel Ollie smirk around me and pull his mouth off my length before going down to my weeping blue rose, and sucking hard on my nub, pulling it into his mouth as he slams and curls his fingers right into a place inside me that makes me see stars. 

I can’t. I can’t hold on anymore. I let go, and I cum. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my jaw gapes into a soundless wail, and I feel the coil in my pelvis being release along with my essence; I cum so hard, I can even feel some fluid eject itself from my entrance. My orgasm lasts much longer than I anticipate, and I’m gasping for air as my body continues to release, more and more tears slip from my eye sockets as I feel strong arms around me as consciousness begins to ebb from my mind. 

***

“Gah!” I shout, waking up to find myself in the basement, shivering and my EYE ignited, the blue flame giving off its eerie glow to the surrounding equipment. I look at the Machine, the sheet is covering it; I look at the flask and tube, I’ve failed to make EXECUTION POINTS again. I look at the sheet underneath my hands; still sprawled out with paper weights at the corners. And lastly, I check myself; neither my soul, nor my pants are glowing. I sigh in relief; it was just a bad dream and Ollie never showed up, and I never cheated. But what I am is late thought. I checked the time on my phone and it said 9:02 am. Classes started at 8:20. Whelp, it wouldn’t be the only time that I was late. I whistle a little tune from Grillby’s juke box as I walk back upstairs, grab a bottle of ketchup from the cupboard and my backpack. I take a swig of the bright red condiment before walking out the door and onto the front porch. 

But right before I take my shortcut to school, I noticed a burnt out cigarette bud right next to my feet. Huh. How did that get there? 

***

By the time I get to the school, it was during passing period and I saw Undyne, Alphys, and Blooky chatting and laughing and sharing dirty jokes by the dinosaur monster’s locker, and I walk over to them, being welcomed by my boyfriend and Alphys. “Ah, late again I see skele-shit?” Undyne cackles, getting a disapproving glance from her girlfriend. I ignore the jab and ask them where Muffet is. 

“I don't know,” Blooky quips up, pinching his brow together, “I mean, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her around since last week-”

“She’s probably salty that you two hooked up,” Undyne says very matter-o-factly, leaning up against a locker and crossing one leg over another. 

Poor Muffet… I know what unrequited love feels like and I know she has to be crushed. 

“Undyne, please!” Alphys sighs defeated, “I know it’s probably true, but please, be a bit more respectful.” 

“Alright, I’ll let up a bit,” the fish monster teases, pecking Alph on the cheek, “well, at least for now.” 

Alphys giggles, adjusting her glasses, “well, that’s all I can hope for I guess. Anyway, on a lighter note, Sans, did you hear about the new student coming here? They’re already enrolled and they start their first day today! Aren’t you excited? We should welcome them. After all, they’re in most of our classes and in our lunch period!” 

“Oh really?” I asked, amused, “they’ll be happy to hear my skele-puns!”  

The whole group of monsters groans besides me; I snicker to myself.

“Please, spare them Sans, don't let them end up how we have,” Undyne sighs, exasperated, “anyway, the new student, they are just so cute!” Undyne squeals balling up her fists, “Their little skirt, and the little bob cut they have!” 

“Yeah, they really are cute aren’t they?” Blooky chimes in, “And their little knee socks and oversized sweatshirt…” 

“And let’s not forget about their little rosy cheeks and their striking amber eyes!” 

‘Wait a second…’  I frown to myself, ‘those descriptions… this person sounds familiar…’ 

“Come on Sans!” Blooky grins pulling me along, “Let’s meet them. They’re going to be in our next class period!” 

“Alright, I’m coming,” I say, nonchalantly, getting to math class at the same time as my other friends and as the bell rang. 

“Welcome you guys,” Toreil smiles brightly at us, “did you enjoy your weekend?” 

We all said ‘good morning Mrs. Dreemur in unison and smile back at her and took our seats next to each other before the bell rings. 

“Alright everyone, quiet down okay? We have a new student, and I want all of you to be respectful of them.” 

I lean back in my seat, folding my arms and listening to the soft banter throughout the classroom; “Is it a girl?” “Is it a boy?” “Are they cute?” “Do you think we can get them in our group?” “We should hang out with them!” 

“Quiet down, now,” Mrs. Dreemur, “they’re coming in! Why, hello, there, can you tell us your name?” 

They walk in. They stop in front of the white board. They turn towards the class. They smile. This can’t be happening! NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

Buckled up chestnut brown shoes. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

Soft cotton white knee socks. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

A pleated black skirt that goes to the middle of their thighs. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

A thick, bright spring green hoodie sweater with a solitary horizontal yellow stripe. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

Dark brown hair.

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

Pale skin. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

A wide grin. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY… 

Rosy red cheeks. 

NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY…  

And an eye color that’s so blood red it looks like the color of LOVE. 

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

“Greetings,” they say in a bright, summery, cheerful voice, “my name is Chara!” their eyes pierce my SOUL, “it’s a pleasure to meet you all!”


End file.
